Turingen City North.
The darkness deepened, clouds obscuring the moon, making the northern part of the city, devoid of Magic Lamps, even darker.
It was the height of summer, and few would light their stoves at night, especially here near the Northern Lands—but not quite in the north—thus inheriting both the dryness of the north and the heat of the summer.
A single spark could be enough to burn down an entire street block. Hence, after suffering losses in the early years of the city's establishment, locals no longer engaged in such activities.
Bang, bang, bang—
Short knocks sounded, followed by a creaking noise as the warehouse door cracked open.
Whoosh—
"Who are you!"
The blade held across the newcomer's neck, the stout man in black was utterly unaware that he was treading the line between life and death.
