"Step forward... the radiant world promised by the divine awaits beyond this gate!"
With the angel's voice, tinged with amusement, ringing in his ears, Colin Iliad took a step through the circular portal in the pocket dimension.
The first thing he felt was blinding light.
The sunlight was far more intense than the small sun of the Forsaken Land of the Gods, illuminating every corner of where he stood. Colin squinted, looking up to see a blazing sun high in the sky. Even after experiencing the Creator's handcrafted sun, the sight of this world-illuminating star left him profoundly shaken... a visceral impact those accustomed to sunlight would never feel.
Lowering his gaze from the searing sun, Colin instinctively surveyed his surroundings. They were in an unfamiliar city, its architecture unlike any he'd seen in explored ruins or ancient records. The only issue was the buildings' height... or lack thereof. Comparing their doors and windows to City of Silver's, Colin realized that while children might manage, adults would need to duck constantly to avoid hitting ceilings.
City of Silver's people, many following the Warrior pathway, were notably tall... over two meters was common. Those under two meters were typically children or malnourished.
Then, a scent hit him. It was fragrant, unlike the seductive aromas of monsters he'd faced. Yet it captivated him, his stomach rumbling, his throat swallowing instinctively, a deep craving rising within.
"Chief, it smells so good. What is that?" Derrick swallowed hard, whispering to Colin.
It wasn't just him. The rest of City of Silver's advance team was similarly affected. It wasn't weak will... they'd subsisted on Black-Faced Grass and monster flesh for over a millennium, leaving them defenseless against the aroma of normal food. The desire for it was primal.
"Control yourselves." Colin said, suppressing his own urges with a stern tone. He turned to Alaric, apologetic. "Forgive our lapse, Your Highness Lucifer."
"No matter. I understand." Alaric said with a smile, unhurried. "I planned to show you around, but since you're hungry, let's have lunch first."
He shot Amon a look, as if to say, Your turn to shine.
"You really don't hold back." Amon said, adjusting his glasses with a glance at Alaric.
"You volunteered for this. I'm just giving you a chance to perform." Alaric replied, unabashedly righteous.
The Ancient Sun God had already returned to his own time.
Amon didn't argue, turning to Colin and the others with a smile devoid of much warmth. "There's a restaurant of mine nearby. Follow me."
Colin hesitated. He knew little of Amon, only that he'd accompanied Lucifer to retrieve them and was tasked with helping them adjust to the outside world. Lucifer had introduced him simply as "Amon." While the name might be unfamiliar to most of City of Silver, Colin recalled a suspicious individual in their prison linked to Amon. This sparked some doubt, but given Lucifer's arrangement, he nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Amon."
"No trouble. It's my duty." Amon said, smiling as he adjusted his glasses.
Why had Amon taken on guiding City of Silver's people? Simple... he wanted to explore what "humanity" meant. Observing these people, untouched by the outside world, was perfect for studying it.
"Let's go!" Alaric gestured to Colin, chuckling. "Don't worry. Amon's a bit of a rascal, but he won't harm you. If he steps out of line, let me know. I've told you what to do."
Colin opened his mouth, then stopped, briefly tempted to ask if their church had any normal higher-ups. Why did they all seem so mischievous? But he held back, saying only, "I trust your arrangements, Your Highness."
As they left the empty alley, their group drew immediate attention. City of Silver's towering figures, like small giants, turned heads at a rate of two hundred percent.
"Damn! Are these Church of the God of Combat folks?"
A surprised voice nearby, though quiet, caught Alaric's ear. He glanced over, raising an eyebrow.
It was a man in a black cloak, around thirty, with messy golden hair and clear blue eyes untainted by knowledge. White powder coated his face... a futile disguise. Alaric recognized him instantly from wanted posters: Danitz, the Flame, a staple of Edwina Edwards's tutoring sessions, first mate of the Golden Dream, Gehrman's loyal "maid" in the original story, future divine messenger of The Fool, currently worth a 3,000-pound bounty, destined to hit 10,000. His brain was decorative, his disguise skills abysmal.
"So the City of Generosity really does randomly spawn Danitz. Or maybe it's the fated pull between City of Silver and him?" Alaric mused, glancing at the oblivious City of Silver group, his lips curving upward.
This was prime mischief material, delivered right to his doorstep.
***
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