Nordvian Kingdom, the royal capital Hilos.
It was autumn now, the season known as “harvest.”
Unbeknownst to anyone, the streets of this seaside city were already lined with all sorts of stalls.
Looking around, whether it was bread, fruits, and live fish, or clothes, jewelry, and toys, in this vast market, one could always find sellers with faces full of tension and joy at some stall.
The guard temporarily pulled over to maintain order looked up at the sun’s position.
“Time’s up!” he shouted loudly.
Thus, under the stall owners’ expectant gazes, a massive crowd in shades of gray and black stepped onto the bluestone, slowly entering this street district.
They wore all kinds of clothes, their eyes carrying the same expectant gleam, rushing toward the stalls they had their eyes on.
In just a moment, the originally somewhat quiet market was completely covered by the rising and falling sounds of haggling and hawking.
“Come look, come look, the latest and most fashionable necklace styles, even the big shots in the upper district are using them!”
“Mom, I want that…”
“Hey, these potatoes are too expensive, can you make it cheaper?”
…
Under the guards’ efforts, the crowd ultimately maintained order with difficulty, flowing slowly but steadily along this street.
And amid the crowd, a travel-worn pedestrian scanned the various stalls, an involuntary smile appearing on his face.
“This is more like it,” he sighed.
“This damn life can finally be a bit normal for a while.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
His companion beside him nodded, echoing repeatedly.
“I’ve really had enough of the curfew from those days before. I hope our king doesn’t get paranoid again.”
“That… hard to say.”
The pedestrian shook his head, his face gradually darkening.
He glanced around, leaned close to his companion’s ear, and whispered, “A friend of mine works in the royal palace. According to his news, His Majesty the king seems to have ideas about conscription lately.”
“Conscription?” A look of terror appeared on the companion’s face.
“Stop right there! You damn thief!”
A sudden roar interrupted their conversation, also drawing sidelong glances from the crowd.
“It’s him again.”
The pedestrian sneered, reaching out to stop his companion whose sense of justice had suddenly surged.
“Don’t bother, that bastard relies on his connections in the upper district to cause trouble all the time. It’s not the first or second time—let him suffer a bit.”
The companion also noticed then that although the surrounding people were whispering, they all quite consciously made way for that thief, and by the time the man caught up, the crowd had already converged into a solid wall.
“Fine.”
The companion nodded hesitantly.
The two whispered and murmured to each other as they walked along the street, brushing past a short, grayish-brown figure.
“I won’t!” that person shouted back.
“If you have the guts, catch me!”
The voice sounded like a girl in her teens, clear and lively.
She was holding something in her arms, nimbly weaving through the crowd, not forgetting to turn back and make a face at the stumbling man behind her.
“Damn…”
The man gritted his teeth in hatred.
The tall and short pair began chasing through the dense crowd.
But obviously, due to certain deliberate reasons, the man simply couldn’t catch the thief in the crowd.
The distance between them grew wider and wider, and after just a few short minutes, the grayish-brown figure completely vanished from his sight.
“Idiot, fool, pighead!”
“Damn, stinking! Little! Brat!”
The man cursed loudly.
Realizing he definitely wouldn’t catch the thief today, he stopped, panting heavily.
“You’d better… better pray every day that I don’t catch you! Otherwise, I’ll personally skin you alive!”
After shouting threats across the thick crowd and catching his breath for a good while, the man finally turned with a face full of frustration and walked back toward his stall.
Only then did he discover that a circle of onlookers had gathered behind him, pointing and gesturing at him.
“What are you looking at? Never seen someone catch a thief? Get the hell away from me!”
The crowd scattered in a rush.
“Serves him right,” someone muttered quietly.
The cloaked figure twisted and turned through the narrow alleys, running for who knows how long, finally arriving in front of a remote little wooden hut.
The hut looked somewhat dilapidated, perhaps a house abandoned by some hunter, or maybe a place where a soldier stationed nearby had lived back when Hilos City hadn’t been expanded yet.
But regardless of what it had been, now, this wooden hut had a new owner.
The cloaked figure cautiously looked around, relaxing only after a good while, then pushed hard on that rickety wooden door.
The door got stuck halfway, but the cloaked figure was used to it, slipping sideways into the hut, finally poking their head out carefully to scan the surroundings before retracting it with relief.
Bang.
“Whew… finally safe at home. Running wore me out,” she grumbled, reaching to undo the cloak’s clasp.
Beautiful silver long hair cascaded down like a starry river, casually draped over her back.
A pair of unusual eyes were also exposed to the air—they weren’t the common gray or black in the Nordvian Kingdom, but instead had a ruby-like clear and transparent crimson, appearing incredibly bright in the dim wooden hut.
However, this pair of crimson eyes was now filled with thick resentment.
“Unlucky.”
The girl looked at her removed cloak, complaining softly.
“How did the wind suddenly pick up on the way back? Is it going to rain today?”
She lifted the grayish-brown cloak by the collar, shook it hard, and the dust on it immediately flew up.
“Cough cough…”
The girl coughed twice from the choking, hurriedly covering her mouth and nose.
She furrowed her pretty brows, holding the cloak with one hand, flipping it over and inspecting it carefully, then nodded in satisfaction and casually tossed it to the bedside.
Since she was done with that…
The girl remembered the round things in her bosom, the anticipation and excitement on her face almost impossible to hide anymore.
She reached in—
Ta-da!
Two apples!
But these weren’t ordinary apples.
She remembered when that man was promoting his apples, he said something about “special varieties from East Kashnister.”
Although she didn’t know how that man, who clearly hadn’t left the city, flew from Nordvian to that “East Kashnister” and back with a bunch of apples. But based on last time’s experience, the apples he sold did seem a bit different from the local Nordvian apples.
The girl simply washed them, picked one up to her mouth, and took a gentle bite.
The unique sweet fragrance of the apple instantly surged along her tongue into her brain.
“So yummy…”
The girl happily cupped her face, mumbling incoherently with her mouth full.