The Battle Within the City (1)
Cloud, standing in the city center, furrowed his brow slightly as the sharp, rattling sounds of gunfire echoed all around him, like nails scraping a blackboard. He extended his hand for a firm handshake, which Sergey accepted with a firm grip. Around them, Sergey's servants had formed a tight perimeter, meticulously guarding the overloaded supply wagons and carriages that sat patiently amid the chaos. The enemy emerging from the shadows were goblins—small, green-skinned creatures that had somehow banded together in this conflict. This was a weapon rarely seen in the army, a distant-range firearm. “You don’t call it a musket,” Sergey explained, proudly displaying the device he held toward Cloud. “This is the very first one I’ve ever used in our kingdom.” Cloud studied the object carefully, then asked, “Sergey, you always show up with the strangest things. Last time it was some new tobacco.” Sergey laughed heartily. “I’m a weapons merchant, after all. I travel the world buying the latest gear and selling it to whoever will listen. You end up picking up the most bizarre trinkets along the way—things like this musket. Something our kingdom has never seen.” A traveling merchant has to charm the crowd, win people over, and keep that salesman smile in place. Sergey’s polished, friendly demeanor was probably just a natural part of the job. For someone of his caliber, Cloud the commoner should have been nothing more than a bargaining chip, yet he treated him with respect and ease. It felt oddly touching. Cloud almost wanted to buy one of the items just to repay the kindness. But lacking any money, he tucked the idea away and asked again, “What’s all this cargo?” He gestured at the roughly twenty servants desperately guarding the wagons. “We’re leaving the city. We have a scheduled meeting with Valentino first thing in the morning tomorrow, so we need to move out quickly.” “And here you are, thinking about business while the whole country is in chaos. You’re impressive.” “If the entire kingdom is at war, sure. But here, we’re only fighting for survival. The rest of the cities are peaceful. If I get stuck here any longer, I’m done for. My customers in other regions will lose faith in me. They don’t understand my situation at all—they never want to. They only care about one thing: can you deliver exactly what they want, when they want it?” Sergey finished speaking, racked the musket, aimed it at a goblin charging from behind Cloud, and fired. The shot rang out with a thunderous bang. The goblin’s forehead exploded in a spray of blood, and it toppled backward. “That’s the feeling,” Sergey said with a satisfied grin, clearly pleased with his marksmanship. He snapped his fingers, and a male servant immediately sprinted over. Sergey handed him the musket with care, then removed his white gloves. A maid appeared at his side in an instant and accepted them with perfect poise. Sergey let out a yawn. “I would have loved to sleep a full night here, but alas. I got carried away drinking at the party in Valua last night.” His voice sounded tired as he turned to Elena, who had been standing quietly beside Cloud. “Well, well. Who is this beautiful woman beside you?” Cloud’s gaze shifted to Elena. “Ah, this elf lady here…” “My wife.” Before Cloud could finish, Elena answered in a completely flat, emotionless tone. Cloud was stunned speechless. Sergey’s eyes widened in shock. “Oh! You’re married? And to an elf? Congratulations!” “T-thank you…” Cloud wanted to correct the misunderstanding on the spot, but the image of Elena showering him with gifts flashed in his mind, and he couldn’t bear to disappoint her. Plus, the situation wasn’t exactly the time for casual small talk. So he simply forced a smile and stood there awkwardly. “It’s an honor to meet you, Lady Cloud. I am Sergey Gustaf.” Sergey greeted Cloud properly this time, with genuine respect. Elena’s face lit up. She smiled brightly at Sergey and answered with an elegant elf bow. “We’re all busy, so let’s smoke a cigarette and part ways.” Sergey pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and exhaled a perfect ring of smoke into the sky. He offered one to Cloud. “You should try one.” “I’m good.” The memory of smoking returned, and Cloud decided it was better not to start again now that the situation was so tense. Sergey lit his own and exhaled slowly. “So, you have a thing for elf women?” “Is there any man who doesn’t?” “Fair enough. Anyway, once the baby is born, whether son or daughter, they’ll be stunning. I’ll make sure to come congratulate you in advance.” Sergey’s smile turned playful. “Just make sure you’re a good parent.” Cloud shrugged it off, remembering the fire he’d accidentally started when he decided to “start over” and burned his own house down. The thought of a child who would inherit his personality gave him an eerie chill. Bang! Bang! The musket fire echoed again, though the servants were still busy fending off the occasional goblin that slipped through. While their master chatted with Cloud, the servants were the ones sweating through the defense of the wagons. Cloud observed the scene without noticing, his mind still spinning with unanswered questions. Given how often nobles interact with him, maybe Sergey knew something about this. “Sergey.” “Hm?” “Why is the Duke of Valua fighting the witches?” “It’s simple. Witches are seen as bad people by nature…” Cloud interrupted. “No, not that. Not the standard ‘she’s evil, so we kill her’ excuse.” Cloud looked at him seriously. “Witches have god-like power. Look around this city. The price of resisting them is destruction. Everything is burning. Why did the Duke launch an expedition? Didn’t he know what would happen if he angered a witch?” Sergey took a long drag on his cigarette, thinking. Finally, he exhaled a long plume of smoke and spoke. “It’s simple. The Duke isn’t the attacker—he’s the defender. He struck first to prevent being struck.” “Then let me ask differently. Why did the witch recruit so many monsters to invade this city? What does she gain?” Sergey chuckled. He kept smoking, clearly a little uncomfortable with Cloud’s relentless questions. “I can’t explain the full details. It’s tied to my business. But I’ll answer within what I can publicly share. Your eyes seem sharp—you don’t look like a man who would spend his life here.” He said. “I’ve met so many people. I can read the crowd. You seem intelligent, and you married an elf. You’re clearly not someone meant to live in this backwater forever. When you become famous, remember me. I’ll give you the answer to whatever your question is, and you can repay me later.” “As long as I don’t go senile.” Cloud’s reply made Sergey laugh. “That cigarette fire earlier wasn’t random. The moment I saw you, I liked your face and wanted to talk. The cigarette was just an excuse to start a conversation. We merchants always jump at the chance to connect with good physiognomy or famous people. We’re all about building connections.” With that, Sergey began. “Why do people call her ‘witch’ instead of her real name?” The image of a crooked old grandmother in a forest hut pops up, but that wasn’t what Cloud remembered at all. He had felt a strong sense that she wasn’t a witch. Moreover, she had demon wings on her back. The title felt wrong. She commanded a monstrous army. So why the name? “It’s because Duke Aaron taught the citizens to call her that.” “Why?” “To demonize her. Want an example? In the first city we visited, a citizen points at a woman and shouts, ‘That’s a witch!’ What would you think of her?” “She looks sinister, uses dark magic, and seems dangerous.” “Exactly. It’s an easy way to turn her into a public enemy. That’s why the name ‘witch’ stuck.” “Even without the name, it’s enough to call her a public enemy, right?” Cloud pointed at the sky dragon, the goblins, the burning buildings, and the corpses scattered on the ground. Sergey shook his head with a smile. “Her reputation for cruelty is too great. If her real name ever got out, tens, hundreds, maybe thousands of people would swarm here, all ready to side with her. Duke Aaron is terrified the world will learn her true identity, so he branded her a witch. Only a handful of his vassals know the real name. Everyone else—most vassals, soldiers, citizens—believes the lies spun by Aaron and his few loyalists.” “Then what is her real identity?” “Her identity…” Sergey crushed the cigarette under his boot, sighed deeply, and looked up at the night sky occupied by countless dragons. “She used to be a hero so beloved in this kingdom that her name was a legend.”