After leaving the temple, Lyerin stepped into the bustling streets of the Kingdom of Rose, a place where the past and present collided in a tapestry of medieval architecture and modern chaos.
The kingdom's training center, a prestigious institution reserved for those without bloodlines or family ties, was not an option for him.
As a member of the Borgias family, he was neither enslaved nor free to access such facilities.
He didn't have to wait long before he was approached by a guide.
The guide was dressed in formal black medieval clothing, an ensemble that included a long, flowing cloak, a doublet with intricate embroidery, and high leather boots. His hair was neatly combed, and his face bore the expression of someone accustomed to dealing with nobility and important figures.
"Sir Lyerin," the guide greeted with a respectful bow, "I am here to escort you to your next destination."
Lyerin nodded, acknowledging the guide's presence. He followed him through the crowded streets, where the clamor of merchants, the chatter of townsfolk, and the distant sounds of military drills created a cacophony of life.
Eventually, they arrived at a waiting carriage, perched atop a shadow rat-like dog beast.
The creature was massive, its dark fur blending seamlessly with the shadows, making it appear almost ghostly in the dim light. Its eyes glowed with an eerie intelligence, and its movements were smooth and fluid despite its size.
The carriage itself was luxurious, with velvet-lined seats and intricate carvings adorning the exterior.
Lyerin climbed inside and found himself amidst a row of strangers, all engaged in whispered conversations.
As the carriage began to move, the atmosphere inside grew tense and filled with an undercurrent of shared dread.
"Did you hear what happened in Sector 12?" a young woman whispered to the man beside her. Her eyes were wide with fear, and her hands trembled slightly. "They say the infected broke through the barriers and slaughtered everyone. It was a bloodbath."
The man nodded grimly. "I lost my brother there. He was trying to protect his family, but the infected... they were too strong, too many. They tore through the defenses like they were nothing."
Another voice chimed in, belonging to an older man with a weary expression. "I was in Sector 8 when it happened. The screams... God, the screams. It was like being in a nightmare. People running, the infected chasing them down. I saw a woman get ripped apart right in front of me."
A young girl, no older than fifteen, spoke up next. "My parents didn't make it out of Sector 5. They tried to get me to safety, but... I was the only one who survived. The infected swarmed our home. I can still hear them, scratching and banging on the doors."
Lyerin listened quietly, absorbing their stories. He knew all too well the horrors of the real world—the apocalypse that had turned Earth into a living nightmare.
These people were likely from Earth, like him, perhaps even offsprings of the Borgias family, their mothers used as breeding animals just as his mother Lina had been.
A middle-aged woman, her face lined with sorrow and exhaustion, spoke next. "I lost my son. He was only ten. We were trying to get to the safe zone, but the infected... they got to us first. I still see his face, every time I close my eyes."
The stories continued, each one more harrowing than the last.
A man with a scar running down his face recounted how he had fought off a horde of infected to save his wife, only to lose her in the end.
Another woman described hiding in a cellar for days, the infected prowling above her, waiting for her to make a sound.
As the carriage rolled on, Lyerin could feel the weight of their collective trauma pressing down on him.
These were his kin, linked by blood and by the shared experience of surviving a world gone mad.
They were all scarred, physically and emotionally, by the apocalypse that had upended their lives.
One of the younger men, his voice barely above a whisper, turned to Lyerin and asked, "How did you survive? What did you do to make it this far?"
Lyerin had planned to remain silent and keep his thoughts to himself, but the question hung in the air, demanding an answer.
"How did you survive? What did you do to make it this far?"
The desperation in the man's voice stirred something within him.
In his past life, he had seen many perish both on Earth and in this ruined magical world, victims of the greed and neglect of powerful families like the Borgias.
At first, it hadn't mattered to him, but now he felt a flicker of something—perhaps a desire to help, or perhaps just a desire to cause trouble for his family.
As he sat in contemplation, he realized that helping these people might indeed be a way to strike back at the Borgias.
Out of spite, or maybe out of some buried sense of justice, he felt a pull towards them.
Yet, instead of answering immediately, he closed his eyes, letting the weight of the decision settle over him. Silence filled the carriage as the others waited, their eyes on him, expectant and hopeful.
After a long pause, Lyerin clapped his hands sharply, the sound slicing through the tension and drawing everyone's attention. "Listen," he began, his voice firm.
"I know some of you are confused. You woke up in a strange place after you saw a countdown, and then found yourselves in dangerous situations or treated like dogs or slaves. I want to hear your stories. What happened to you after you were sent here?"
The first to speak was the young woman who had lost her brother. "I was dropped into a forest," she said, her voice trembling. "I was told to gather herbs for a potion. They didn't tell me the forest was infested with creatures—monsters that hunted me as soon as I stepped inside. I barely made it out alive."
A man with a scar down his face spoke next. "They sent me into a cave to retrieve a crystal. They said it was a simple task, but the cave was collapsing. I had to navigate through falling rocks and unstable ground. It felt like they wanted me to fail."
An older woman with a weary expression added her story. "I was forced into a combat arena. They made us fight each other for their amusement. They didn't care if we lived or died, just that we entertained them."
A young girl, no older than fifteen, shared her experience. "They told me to clean a noble's house. I thought it would be safe, but the house was haunted. Ghosts tormented me the whole time. I couldn't escape until dawn."
Another man, his eyes hollow, spoke up. "They had me work in the mines. The air was thick with dust, and there were cave-ins all the time. I saw people crushed under the rubble, but we were forced to keep digging."
As each person recounted their ordeal, Lyerin listened carefully.
Their experiences varied, but a common thread ran through them all: they had been deceived, treated as expendable, and thrown into perilous situations without warning.