📘 BLURB
Is it possible...to create a world where people will live forever? A world where you and I no longer fear death?
Zenvix Nighvicto, prince to the fallen nation of conquerors, knows the answer.
Beset by the loss of his homeland, he set...
FORTY DAYS AFTER THE BATTLE OF NOX, IN A VILLAGE TO THE FAR NORTH-EAST
When the stranger walked into the tavern, he drew attention at once with his feminine eyes, lean build and long black hair framing a soft, pretty face.
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A prey. In fact, many would mistake him as a runaway girl from a wealthy family. Especially since there were a few that fled to Mondeus Village in recent years, lured by falsehood and fairy-tale love, but they disappeared into the crooked alleyways as quickly as they came ‒ just as many thought this stranger would too in a day or less.
But in the tavern, even the tougher-looking ones, ranging from mercenaries to hooligans knew better than to stir trouble. Something wasn't right, and their instincts rang alarm bells. Indeed, they wouldn't be able to survive in this village without a keen sense of peril.
Firstly, the air seemed thick with power, emanating from the stranger the moment he stepped in, as though telling others to steer away.
Secondly, he was alone in Mondeus Village, an infamous place ruled by tyrants and rife with men of shady backgrounds. Yet he was unharmed, and as he gazed over the crowd, his face was unfazed in the slightest.
The stranger's eyes returned to the innkeeper.
"I need a room for the night, and a hot, piping stew. Preferably beef but any meat will work."
"Ten bronze coins," said the innkeeper, pushing a thick book for the stranger to write his name.
"You said eight for the previous guest."
"Ten for outsiders."
If the strange energy in the air affected the innkeeper, he betrayed no sign of it. The stranger stared for a moment then relented, parting with ten coins. He found an empty table and sat alone, away from the other guests.
No one went near him, except for the staff who brought the meat stew the stranger requested.
He ate silently, and was soon forgotten.
The tavern's guests returned to their banters and discussions, as the oppressive air faded away.
"Have you heard...?" A loud-mouth woman, who sat with two men just opposite the stranger, said.
"The new mercenaries hired by Ceil?" Someone else shouted.
"The Half-Brother Company," A coarse elderly voice came. "Blood money, blood duties, blood honour!"
"Piss off with the cries," the bald man opposite the stranger said.
"Nox had fallen about three full moons ago...Frath the bard's new story," said the same loud-mouthed woman. "The heart of the conquerors' kingdom, now a ruin and a shithole."
"I heard. Downed six ales the same night I got the news with my lads," said someone else, brandishing his scabbarded blade high up in the air. "The conquered conquerors."
