The carriage left the crowded and bustling area of the city centre and headed toward the clearly more affluent district of the city, which also lay closer to the Cathedral. Notably, security around the carriage had tightened somewhat.
Serin was someone who always mocked the people in movies who ignored their intuition and then suffered disastrous consequences.
In competitive-level chess as well, intuition played a significant role in one’s ability to win. Serin had long conditioned himself to never ignore his intuition, and thus even a fleeting moment—something that could easily have been dismissed as imagination—did not escape his attention.
Just to be cautious, he promptly informed the Steward.
Naturally, appropriate measures were immediately taken in response to his concerns.
Even as the crowds gradually thinned ahead of Marksville Street, the festive atmosphere of the city could still be felt everywhere.
Here, many more noblemen and women could be seen roaming the streets, each accompanied by their own entourage. The men wore slick, fitted coats while the women wore bulky yet elegant silky dresses adorned with tiny shining gemstones.
“You look concerned,” Epher asked casually, resting his arm on the windowsill of the carriage.
“It could be that I'm imagining things,” Serin said slowly, “but I felt as if someone was watching us maliciously as we left.”
Ellis's forehead creased slightly while Eldric looked at Serin with clear skepticism.
Epher, however, turned his head with interest and glanced at Serin's wrist where the mark of the Divine Arena could briefly be seen as his sleeves fluttered in the wind.
“Divine Blessing?” Epher asked cautiously, a faint smile appearing on his face.
Serin had long decided that there was no point in hiding the fact that he possessed the mark of the Divine Arena. Besides, he had already revealed that a Divine Blessing had helped him foresee the threat of the Seasnake. None of this was truly a secret, nor did it need to be.
In fact, it was far more beneficial for Serin to be perceived as someone valuable rather than merely the useless bastard child of the faraway emperor.
“Not sure,” Serin said with a helpless shrug, “but it's better to be cautious than regret later.”
Epher fell silent and sank into deep thought for a moment. Then he looked at Serin seriously and reached into the pouch at his waist.
“This is…”
Serin widened his eyes as his gaze fixed on Epher's hand. The young Magus was casually holding what appeared to be several ordinary paper scrolls.
Of course, Serin knew better.
“Take it,” Epher said with a friendly smile. “It's a defensive Magi Scroll. Better to be cautious, right?”
“This… this is too generous… how can I—”
Epher shoved the scrolls into Serin's hands before he could finish speaking.
“Don't worry about it. You owe me, Your Highness. It's not for free!” Epher smirked and winked playfully.
“Good! Then I will accept it!”
Serin could not have been happier to receive high-quality defensive Magi Scrolls directly from a credible source.
As he carefully tucked the scrolls into his pocket, Serin inadvertently caught Eldric staring at him with clear envy written all over his face.
His expression practically screamed: Why can't I get one…
Serin felt a brief pang of guilt and even considered whether he should share one scroll with Eld—uh, with Ellis.
However, he quickly remembered that they already had their own means of protection. The Count would certainly make sure of that.
Besides, not all Magi Scrolls were of equal quality.
Most scrolls circulating in the market were inferior and sold through third parties. Naturally, they could not compare to the real ones produced directly by the Magi Order.
The scrolls exclusively sold by the Magi Order were extremely expensive, and even nobles could not afford them easily.
Surely, in this group I'm the most likely to be in danger, right?
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Serin wondered inwardly, once again recalling the odd sensation he had felt earlier and wondering whether it truly had been the Precognition Blessing at work.
Speaking of which, Serin still could not decipher the meaning behind the dreams he had been seeing.
He clenched his teeth slightly, feeling increasingly vexed. For a moment he even wondered whether he should seek outside help.
Lost in thought, Serin suddenly jolted from his daze as the carriage came to a halt.
The door opened from the outside and Steward Bartley politely invited everyone out.
Behind him stood a grand white building, its broad pillars faintly visible even from inside the carriage.
Serin stepped out and immediately felt the warm sunlight bearing down from the sky, forcing him to squint.
Shielding his eyes with his hand, he finally caught a proper glimpse of the building before him.
A strange sense of familiarity struck him instantly.
“Steppan’s Hall.”
Serin read the name above the gateway arch and suddenly remembered briefly seeing the building before.
Strangely enough, the architecture strongly resembled old art theatres reminiscent of the Victorian Era.
As soon as everyone had stepped out of the carriage, the entourage was greeted by a beautiful blonde woman with an exotic and somewhat flamboyant flair about her.
Eldric froze the moment he saw her.
His face flushed bright red as his gaze darted left and right in embarrassment, carefully avoiding direct eye contact—especially trying not to stare at the woman's rather ostentatiously displayed cleavage.
“We are honoured to have all of you as our guests for today's show. Please come…”
The woman smiled warmly, though her gaze lingered on Serin and Epher a moment longer than on the others.
Everyone followed her inside.
As expected, the building was a large auditorium with a spacious stage designed for all sorts of performances.
At that moment the hall was packed.
Patrons from mostly affluent backgrounds filled the seats, sitting comfortably on sofas facing the curtained stage.
The entire hall buzzed with impatient whispers as the audience waited for the show to begin.
The blonde woman led the group up to the balcony where the VIP guests were seated.
Here the view of the stage was perfect. The space was more private and comfortable, and trays filled with snacks had already been prepared.
There were even specially selected and trained female slaves available for those who desired such company.
“Oh—Silly me!” the woman suddenly chuckled after everyone had taken their seats.
“I forgot to introduce myself.”
She bowed deeply.
The motion was perhaps slightly too enthusiastic, as the curves of her cleavage nearly caused Eldric to suffer an immediate nosebleed.
“I am Nia Harvest, the manager of this Hall.”
Serin, despite being a young teenager, was not entirely immune to such deliberate feminine charms. He could feel the blood rushing to his face.
Fortunately, the Anchor Blessing saved his dignity once again.
Epher, on the other hand, appeared completely unrestrained.
He even dared to flirt openly with the woman, making Ellis and Princess Leia recoil slightly in visible displeasure.
“What's the show about today?” Serin asked curiously, trying to break the awkward atmosphere.
Nia gestured toward the stage and chuckled.
“Why not see for yourself, Your Highness?”
Just as she spoke, the magical lamps throughout the hall dimmed.
A single spotlight illuminated the stage, reflecting softly off the large mirrors mounted on the ceiling.
As the curtains slowly rose, several female slaves entered the VIP area carrying trays of snacks.
Interestingly enough, Eldric did not seem particularly interested in them even though they were dressed even more provocatively than Nia herself.
In fact, he barely gave them a second glance.
The same seemed true for Epher.
Serin pushed these observations to the back of his mind and deliberately ignored the female slaves as well.
Instead, he focused entirely on the stage.
Out of sight, out of mind.
The stage opened to reveal an intricately crafted backdrop depicting grand palaces, divine shrines, and ancient battlefields.
Music rose from both sides of the hall—heroic, emotional, and stirring.
Then suddenly dozens of human-sized figures descended from above through hidden trapdoors.
Their movements were stiff and mechanical.
Clearly they were puppets.
Yet one figure stood out.
Unlike the others, this one moved far more naturally.
He held a spear in his hand and wore a red cape that fluttered dramatically behind him. His face was handsome and proud, his posture chivalrous and dignified.
“It's a… puppet show?” Serin muttered in genuine awe.
He was truly impressed.
Nia Harvest nodded.
The performance depicted the rise of a legendary hero.
The hero fought almost like a god, slaughtering his enemies mercilessly while armies of brave humans followed him zealously across the battlefield.
“Did the non-human races really exist?” Serin blurted absentmindedly while watching the hero lead humanity in a war against strange, monstrous beings.
There was little reliable information about those ancient races now.
Most surviving knowledge came only from distant legends and scattered fairytales due to the sheer age of that history.
Even so, Serin had read small fragments about them.
As he looked at the crowded stage filled with countless humanoid puppets—creatures clearly not human—his imagination ran wild.
Some had long pointed ears like the elves of legend.
Others stood eight or ten feet tall with physiques like living mountains.
Still others were so bizarre that their forms could hardly be described.
Above them, winged races fought fierce battles in the skies.
Such a pity these non-human races are gone now.
Serin couldn't help thinking.
Wouldn't it have been incredible to witness dragons breathing fire, elves with their long ears, giants hurling boulders, and savage orcs rampaging across battlefields?
Then suddenly Serin froze.
The thought struck him as strange.
A world with so many different races…
Even imagining such a world felt outrageous.
He shook his head inwardly.
But still…
Serin knew very well that a world with countless intelligent races would not be the romantic fantasy described in stories from Earth.
In reality it would likely have been brutal, violent, and filled with endless conflict.
Perhaps that was precisely why the Great War between the races had erupted in the first place.
A war for survival.
A war for hegemony.
Even understanding this, however, Serin still could not help feeling a deep curiosity.
Watching the puppet show, Serin gradually forgot his worries.
He became absorbed in the intricate artistry and the skillful puppetry unfolding before him.
The ancient legends and myths of Eidryth played out vividly upon the stage.
His blood stirred with excitement.
For a moment it almost felt as though he himself stood within that ancient war—riding a great dragon, holding a divine spear in his hand, leading humanity toward salvation.
by RMW
In the Undercroft, you advance, or you die.
faith in the flesh?
What to expect:
- Dungeon Delving
- Tower Climbing
- Steady Progression
- Earned Power
- No Harem
- No LitRPG
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Update Schedule:
- 12 Chapters Day 1
- 3 Chapters Week - Monday-Wednesday-Friday
Volume 2 Drafting - 19 Chapters Drafted
