Chapter 14: The City of Gates
The gates of Mologan City loomed ahead like the jaws of a slumbering titan—tall stone walls etched with protective runes, wide enough to let in entire caravans side by side. As Flux and Ryo approached, the distant hum of life transformed into a full-blown roar.
The city was alive.
Vendors shouted over one another, hawking glowing talismans and bundles of spiritual herbs. Spirit lanterns floated midair above the streets, casting gentle light over the crowds. Cultivators in colorful robes brushed shoulders with armored guards and wide-eyed civilians.
"Welcome to Mologan!" Ryo said, grinning like a child at a festival. "The city where dreams are crushed or ignited, depending on how well you fight!"
Flux kept his expression neutral, but his eyes took everything in—the layered architecture, the mix of ancient and modern cultivation design, the sheer number of people.
They pushed through the bustling crowd until they found a small registration building near the foot of a massive arena that towered over the city like a mountain of stone. Flags bearing the emblem of the Blue River Prefecture flapped in the wind.
"Tournament registration?" Flux asked a cultivator standing at the desk.
"Yes," the man replied, handing them each a registration scroll and a jade token. "Names, age, cultivation realm, and sect if applicable."
Ryo scribbled quickly. "Ryo Vercu, sixth level of Foundation Establishment, Blue Mist Mountain Sect."
Flux took a moment, then wrote in clean, steady characters: "Flux. Eight level of Foundation Establishment. No sect."
The cultivator glanced at Flux but said nothing. Their tokens lit briefly as the information was engraved with spiritual energy.
"Preliminary rounds start in two weeks," the man said. "You'll receive updates through these tokens. Don't lose them."
As they stepped back out into the city square, Ryo whistled, pointing up. "Look at that arena. It's called the Skyfang Coliseum. I heard it can seat over a hundred thousand people. I bet the final rounds will be packed!"
Flux gave a quiet nod, absorbing the scale of it all.
From there, the duo wandered the market districts. Colorful stalls spilled into the streets, selling everything from flying swords to beast-hide cloaks. Spirit puppets danced in corners while street performers breathed flames or formed illusions for coin.
"Hey, hey, Flux! Let's find the auction house too. The big one—Golden Nimbus Pavilion. The auction's in a week, but it's open for previews already!"
After some asking around, they found the pavilion nestled near the east district. It was an elegant building shaped like a lotus in bloom, protected by shimmering spirit arrays. A host greeted them with a polite bow as they peeked at posted notices: items like spirit herbs, rare demon beast materials, and even top-tier Foundation Establishment weapons were already listed.
Ryo leaned close. "Think they'll notice if I sneak something out?"
Flux replied dryly, "Only if you want to become a smear on the pavement."
The sun was beginning to set, casting long golden rays over the streets. They found a bustling restaurant nearby called The Boiling Gourd, known for its grilled demon beast meats.
"I'm starving," Flux said, eyes locking onto a menu carved into spirit wood.
Ryo blinked. "You're actually showing emotion? I must be dreaming."
They ordered a massive spread—grilled ox-wyrm ribs, cloud chicken skewers, spicy rock lizard tail, fried root dumplings, and a full roast fire boar.
Flux devoured the meat like a starved tiger. Ryo gawked between bites. "You eat like a martial beast! Where does it all go?"
Flux just nodded in satisfaction. "Meat builds strength."
"I eat too, but you're a whole sect's food budget."
Ryo's mouth didn't stop even after the food arrived. "So anyway, I've spotted at least ten cultivators from the Iron thunder Sect, and I swear that redhead earlier was from the Jade Rain Temple. Even the Myrin Clan has someone here—I recognize their blue embroidery."
Flux listened while chewing, filing the names away.
Ryo leaned closer, eyes sparkling with anticipation. "The tournament prizes are insane this year. Third place gets five hundred middle-grade spirit stones and a premium Foundation-grade weapon. Second place gets a thousand stones, a top tier foundation establishment treasure, and the chance to enter one of the Prefecture's ancient cultivation abode to cultivate there for a year."
Flux raised a brow. "And first?"
Ryo grinned wide. "First place gets one thousand five hundred middle-grade spirit stones, a top-tier Foundation treasure of their choice—weapon, armor, or artifact—and a direct invitation to challenge for Core Disciple status in any of the blue river prefecture ruling sects. That's not even the best part."
Flux took a sip of spirit tea, listening.
"The winner also gets to choose one item from the Prefecture Vault," Ryo said, lowering his voice. "Anything from lost techniques to ancient pills or sealed relics. Even the sect elders don't get free access to that place. People kill for a glimpse inside."
Flux's gaze lingered on the lanterns outside. "That's worth fighting for."
"No kidding," Ryo muttered. "Every genius under fifty is coming for that prize. This year's tournament isn't just about spirit stones—it's a golden ladder. One step could change your entire path."
They walked for another hour, weaving through lantern-lit streets and admiring glowing mural walls that played out ancient battles in soft illusionary light. Children ran with paper spirit kites. A group of elderly cultivators sat playing immortal chess by a tea stall.
Eventually, they arrived at a quiet inn called The Feathered Coin. Inside, the atmosphere was warm—walls of polished wood, soft spirit light orbs, and the smell of fresh bread and stew.
"I'll rent two rooms," Ryo said, placing his few remaining stones on the counter.
Just as they found a table and settled in, Flux removed his hat for the first time.
Ryo turned to say something—and froze mid-sentence, jaw falling open.
"Wait. What the—?!" Ryo pointed at him. "You've been hiding that face this whole time?!"
Flux raised an eyebrow. "Hiding what?"
"That face, man! Long white hair, sapphire-blue eyes, skin like jade, and a face that could bankrupt clans! You're telling me you've been walking around like some shady hermit while looking like... that?"
Flux shrugged. "I don't like attention."
Ryo leaned closer and whispered dramatically, "Be honest. You're a runaway young master from some forbidden aristocratic clan, right? Are you secretly betrothed to a princess? Escaping arranged marriage? That's why you've been hiding your divine face?"
"No."
"I get it now," Ryo nodded solemnly. "You wear that big shady hat not to protect your identity, but to shield innocent women from instant infatuation."
Flux let out a small sigh. "Do you ever stop talking?"
"Nope," Ryo said proudly. "Especially not when I find out my travel companion is a hidden heartthrob."
They laughed, and the food arrived again—more grilled meats, roasted wings, spicy dumplings, and a massive platter of marinated demon beast ribs just for Flux.
Just as Ryo bit into a crispy dumpling, a new figure entered the inn—silent as shadow.
He wore a dark blue traveling robe with silver trim, his long black hair tied back with a plain silk cord. His eyes were cold and deep, the kind of black that didn't reflect light. His presence was quiet, but it cut through the room like a blade through mist.
Ryo straightened. "No way... that's Xavier Reu."
Flux looked over. " that's him?"
"Yap thats him" Ryo whispered. "Top disciple of our sect—Blue Mist Mountain. And he's from the Reu Clan. One of the ancient noble clans that controls part of the north. He rarely travels with anyone."
Flux watched as Xavier sat alone at a corner table, ordering quietly.
"He's strong, calm, and colder than glacier steel," Ryo added. "I've never seen him smile. Ever. I heard he's already reached the peak of Foundation Establishment."
Flux observed quietly. There was something different about Xavier's aura—refined, honed, deadly. Like a sword in a sheath that still leaked intent.
"He travels alone?" Flux asked.
"Always," Ryo nodded. "Says others slow him down. He doesn't waste words either. No one dares mess with him, not even sect elders."
Xavier glanced toward them, eyes landing briefly on Flux. For a heartbeat, their gazes met. Then Xavier looked away, unmoved.
Ryo swallowed. "Yup… cold as ever."
Flux simply nodded, filing the name Xavier Reu into memory.
As the evening deepened, stories and rumors drifted across tables like incense smoke a shadowy cultivator said to have wiped out an entire bandit fortress alone.