Chapter 259
Chapter 259
Chapter 259
Translator: True Detective
Chapter 259: Lan Qi Arrives at the Imperial Capital
The Imperial Capital — Helrom.
The brilliance of the architecture upheld the heavy twilight of this fortress-city of the Protos Empire.
This massive city seemed cut off from the world. From a distance, the towering and unyielding barrier wards looked as though they were fused with both sky and earth. The edge architecture, forged from hard stone and cold metal, made the city feel steeped in the weight of an age.
At the border’s magi-train station, even at ten at night, the station hall still bustled with travelers, moving back and forth between the platforms and the wide concourses.
From afar, a train entered the station, the screech of its wheels grinding against iron rails echoing through the empty track. The lamplight inside the carriages spilled through the windows, falling upon the moonlit platform.
It was a classically furnished train, though bearing traces of modern modifications. Its surface was inscribed with subtle runes, which gradually flickered to life as it neared the station, resonating with the protective wards surrounding the station.
Inside the carriage.
“Finally… we’ve reached the Imperial Capital?”
Zestira and Lan Qi stood waiting at the doorway.
Even before the doors opened, the music reverberating through the platform could be heard.
“…That dreadful sound again.”
Zestira muttered, frowning.
Lan Qi, standing beside her, could also hear it clearly.
It was like the very background score of Helrom itself. To showcase Helrom’s rich history and the noble bloodlines of its powerful lords, the main theme was an immense symphony: resounding brass, sacred strings steeped in religious tones, solemn and mysterious, yet cold and lonely. Perhaps due to the northern geography and climate, modulations often broke into violent and tense passages. Pipe organs and ever-rising high notes created a ceaseless urgency of war.
When the melody descended, it quickened; when it rose again, it slowed. The brass — horns and trombones — overlapped, so that when the higher voices weakened, the bass swelled. After repeated cycles, the brain was tricked into hearing an endlessly ascending scale, uncertain when it might collapse.
And never, never was there any trace of hope or release.
Just as the grim history of the Demon Holy War had been carved into bone — from beginning to end, never yielding to gentle melody nor harmonious chords.
Even now, its essence carried rejection toward demon kind.
“…I think I understand why you find this music so hateful.”
Lan Qi looked out through the glass of the carriage door, thoughtful.
“…”
Zestira did not answer.
She knew Lan Qi was a magi-engineer. Perhaps he had studied arts of magical instruments and tonal sorcery.
The dissonance merely made her uncomfortable. But that was not the root. A person raised in the peaceful southern continent could never truly feel what she felt.
The train slowed to a halt, the doors sliding open. A faint mist wafted out — the lingering warmth released by the stabilizer dissipating.
As the music filled the station, Lan Qi followed Zestira out. Before them rose a transparent mirror screen, capturing the expressions of newly arrived passengers, holding them for a few seconds before vanishing.
“It’s tradition,” Zestira explained softly. “It records and verifies the identity of everyone entering the capital.”
Anyone with disguise magic would have their true form revealed, and immediately be seized by the city guard.
“What’s this underfoot?”
On the gray-stone platform, the ground lit up beneath their steps. Azure ripples spread outward like stepping on the surface of the sea.
Lan Qi only walked onto it once he understood it wasn’t an attack spell.
“If you don’t have legal Imperial documents, you won’t be able to take a single step here.”
Zestira explained.
Normally, she avoided unnecessary talk. But she had grown used to patiently answering Lan Qi’s questions.
Because this naive, fragile youth needed her.
After a sequence of checkpoints and verifications, the two passed through the station and entered the fortress barrier of the capital.
The skyline of Helrom unfolded: blazing skyscrapers, ancient cathedrals, and floating extradimensional buildings coexisted. The night sky wasn’t only dark blue — at times, golden fireflies flickered, as though reflecting in a great mirror above the city.
It was a city of magical wonders. Yet the cataclysmic accidents born from the Holy War a century ago had left their mark, twisting not only the physical but also cultural, social, and legal fabric.
In Helrom, humans and all manner of hybrids crowded together, living in uncertainty. You might glimpse a floating garden wedged between towers, or collide in the underground rails with an escaped alchemy-beast. Shops sold everything from ancient alchemical potions to advanced magical instruments.
In some districts, ruled by the Empire’s mighty nobles, there was “absolute order.” But further away, chaos, crime, and violence erupted frequently.
“Stay with me. Hostile stares will become your everyday life.”
Zestira, leading Lan Qi toward the Protos Royal Academy, warned him.
The school was not far from the station — a walk would suffice.
“Say, when we get to the school, will there be… people coming to pick fights?”
Lan Qi had already noticed. Almost everyone along the way — residents, guards, soldiers — looked at them sharply. Few held goodwill. Zestira looked too much like a pureblood demon.
“For example?”
“Well, like… you’re quietly reading, then suddenly some marquis’s son shows up to sneer at you.”
Lan Qi gave an example in the Ikerite style.
“Then I’d slap him across the face.”
Zestira lifted her chin, answering matter-of-factly.
“Good girl.”
Lan Qi praised.
By demon-realm etiquette, that was already polite.
Since she wanted to live as a demon, she shouldn’t be judged by human standards. As a teacher, Lan Qi had always respected his students’ individuality.
“But that likely won’t happen. At this school, those who truly want your life will hardly waste words. They might even first try to be your trusted allies.”
Zestira said coolly.
“Like who?”
Lan Qi asked.
“For example, at the end of this month’s probationary exams, and the Shadow World challenge at the start of next month. Most of those wanting to team up with me harbor ill intent.”
Zestira’s tone was indifferent.
“…How do you know that? About others’ attitudes?”
Lan Qi asked.
She wasn’t paranoid. Her words were absolute.
“I can sense hostility and goodwill to some extent. You’re different, though. You’re like a blank sheet of paper.”
Zestira glanced at him again.
(End of Chapter)