"Here we are, Nathy. The capital is right in front of us."
A massive rounded wall stretched before them. They couldn't see its end on either side, so Nathanaël deduced it must surround the entire city. Although most of the houses in the villages they had crossed were made of primary materials like wood or tightly bound straw—strangely solid—the walls of the capital were made of black and gray brick, rising a hundred meters high.
Nathanaël was convinced that Nozras was technologically behind because of their focus on war and the throne, but the capital seemed to rise far above anything he had seen so far.
He turned to Azraüs to ask a question.
"are there cities in Nozras ?"
Azraüs answered while walking.
"Yes and no. If you're asking whether there are other stone constructions like this one, I'd say yes. But we never built entire villages out of them. All villages are made of wood and straw reworked to such a degree that we don't need more. The fabrics and plastics used for tents are just as well arranged, and we don't mind if that's what you wanted to know.
Every stone or metal is used for weapons, and I suppose you guessed that already, but the capital is the only extremely developed city compared to the rest of the country.
Nozras itself has made it a true fortress and at the same time a shining core to reflect its greatness."
Nathanaël turned his face away to focus again on the millions of bricks rising before him.
Black and white clouds covered the sky, and no one could see inside.
At least he had an answer. Nozras was not underdeveloped. It had simply chosen to develop in another sector than comfort. If they had wanted, living conditions could have been much better, but they seemed so sturdy that the accusations of suffering were exaggerated.
Since the beginning of his journey in this country, Nathanaël had never seen a sick Norde. It was impressive. Moreover, there didn't seem to be any winter, so they didn't fear the cold.
'And I think that even if there were, they wouldn't fear the cold.'
It was to be expected given their physique and resilience.
While walking, Nathanaël continued observing the remnants of a land of warriors and blood.
A corpse lay near Azraüs's foot, and suddenly it reminded Nathanaël of all the bodies he too had left behind.
He looked behind him to see everything he had gone through.
A fallen clan, solitary warriors and horses, spears… There must have been at least a thousand living beings on the ground who had slaughtered one another and continued slaughtering each other.
It was a real carnage before the capital. A battlefield stretching endlessly around the wall while countless red dots fought like madmen.
There were so many warriors that Nathanaël wondered if most of the country's population wasn't concentrated here.
Weapons clashed in every direction, screams vibrated through eardrums, and the beating of hearts echoed like drums. Blood flowed everywhere and sometimes sprayed several meters into the air.
Warriors were ejected in all directions, others crushed in mud and the red glow of blood. Some had lost eyes, others arms, and others their lives. Mountains of corpses formed everywhere as if they were offerings to death piled up in heaps.
Nathanaël and Azraüs had passed through it all. They had beaten three or four warriors, then were quickly recognized, and many let them pass to avoid losing their lives foolishly.
Several warriors had stopped upon seeing them, recognizing in them warriors of great renown.
"Those are the two kids who are ravaging the country?"
"That's the ogre's descendant, isn't it? That's why he's so strong."
"The other one is a foreigner, he has no business here."
"Who cares if he's a foreigner or not ?Who really cares about that stupid rule? As long as he can fight, I don't mind."
"They're strong, aren't they? I wonder if my blade could reach them?"
"So the ogre hadn't finished his carnage? Now he sends his son to finish the job."
"Nozras itself would be jealous."
While they walked between spears and blades that sometimes managed to graze their throats, Nathanaël silently watched the rage to fight burning in the Nordes, and deep inside, he was disgusted. He didn't even feel the slightest desire to stop any of it. He wanted to leave. Far and fast. Escape this country of lunatics. Flee the madness of this nation. But he had a duty, and he would not run away from it for anything in the world.
He had made a promise. At least, to himself. To help Marc in his quest for redemption. And he wasn't going to stop. Not after having deserted once already.
Now he knew what it felt like. He knew how wanting to finish something at all costs was both exhilarating and painful.
He didn't want to leave, but his quest was difficult, so he closed his eyes on his resentment and disgust, on his hatred and his pain, in order to move forward without turning back.
It was the price to pay for wanting to help…
But one thing was certain: through hardships and pain, he had become strong, and thanks to that strength, they had earned their ticket to the capital.
"Damn it."
Before him stood the arena, the summit of every warrior, the eternal slaughterhouse, the endless massacre, the tomb of false kings. The place where death was daily and life was a precious jewel. Where the long-searched-for book was kept, and maybe his unwanted death as well.
Behind those walls lay either the end or the continuation.
"I can't believe it. After all these years…"
Azraüs was over the moon. The wind blew against his face as if telling him to turn back, but his excitement was so overwhelming that his eyes shone despite the darkness of the day.
It was his dream. The dream of a lifetime. Even if it was the same dream everyone had, it was his just as much. So he cherished it and did everything he could to reach it. His prodigious innate strength allowed him not to struggle too much to reach the arena. But the story he kept hidden in his past was, unfortunately, a cold source of motivation.
But now, he was almost there, and while thousands—maybe millions—of warriors fought behind him, he could finally touch the wall that separated him from his dream.
Nathanaël, on the other hand, was looking at the sky because, for one reason or another, something had seemed strange to him.
The black clouds hovered only above the capital, as if someone had told them to stay right there above it.
Suddenly, thinking of someone, a slight chill ran down his back.
"That's strange. Could it be Astra? If she's here, this might cause us bigger problems than expected."
But his thoughts were quickly interrupted by a radiant Azraüs.
"You coming, Nathy?"
Azraüs was practically skipping with joy toward the arena. Nathanaël didn't understand how he could be so excited, but he had no choice but to follow him into what seemed like a massive trap.
"And how do we get inside?"
"I don't know, my father never told me."
At the foot of the wall, climbing it seemed impossible. The hollows and notches were maybe numerous, but the wall was far larger than the cave wall. Sure, there were no spikes sticking out, but still, there had to be another way to enter.
Azraüs and Nathanaël both stared stupidly at the top, waiting for a miracle for a long minute.
"Isn't there a door?"
"I don't know, my father never told me."
They kept staring at the top for a good five minutes before Nathanaël broke the silence.
"Alright, I'm done with this."
Nathanaël knew he didn't have the strength of a Norde, but he was sure of one thing: with aura, it was different.
He charged his fist with luminous aura that lit up his vision. TThe golden light shone so brightly that he himself had difficulty seeing. Small particles of light burst left and right before being sucked at incredible speed into Nathanaël's arm.
Azraüs watched him take momentum and prepare to strike.
"You know that's Netherite. The hardest rock in the world. You'd really have to be Nozras himself to…"
Nathanaël began glowing even brighter and gave a huge impulse to his fist before striking the wall.
The luminous aura engulfed the area where he stood and the particles of light were propelled backward from the impact.
And for a brief moment… Azraüs saw Nathanaël shine…
"You…"
The wall shattered in an instant, leaving a massive hole in the fortification. The rock broke into several pieces that scattered inside the wall.
The arena buildings were now visible.
Azraüs was shocked, but then shrugged, thinking that if it was Nathanaël, then it was perfectly possible.
"I could've done the same."
"Shall we go in?"
"Yeah."
With the hole made, all that was left was to enter.