Zephyron landed in the bustling town of Nasca, a small but vibrant kingdom that seemed much livelier than its size suggested.
His wings retracted and vanished into his back, leaving him looking like a common adventurer. He made his way toward a nearby tavern, where the lively chatter of adventurers, mercenaries, and bounty hunters filled the air.
The wooden door creaked as he pushed it open. Inside, tables were crowded with people from all walks of life—hardened adventurers discussing their latest quests, mercenaries bragging about their conquests, and bounty hunters quietly sipping their drinks. The atmosphere was thick with tales of battles and whispers of riches to be found across the land.
Zephyron sat at a corner table, At the next table, a group of adventurers was loudly sharing stories about their exploits. They looked to be seasoned warriors, their armor battered from many battles.
"Hey, did you hear about that new guild forming in the capital?" one of the adventurers, a tall man with a bushy beard, asked. "They're calling themselves the Golden Hawks. Some say they're gearing up to explore the Mystery Continent."
"Golden Hawks, huh?" another adventurer, a woman with a scar across her cheek, scoffed. "Sounds like a bunch of arrogant fools to me. No one sane ventures to the Mystery Continent, not unless they want to end up dead or even worse."
Zephyron's ears perked up at the mention of the continent, but he remained silent, sipping his drink as he listened.
Meanwhile, a group of common people sat at a different table, talking about more mundane concerns.
"I'm telling you, the crops this year have been awful," one farmer in the group said, shaking his head. "The soil's dry, and it's like the rains just forgot about us. If it doesn't change soon, we'll have nothing to sell at the market."
His companion, a stout man with a face worn from years in the fields, grunted in agreement. "Aye, and the taxes don't help either. Lord's been squeezing us for every last coin for the army. We're lucky if we can feed our families with what's left."
Zephyron's eyes flicked to the farmers. The struggles of everyday life here were far removed from the grand battles and wars he was accustomed to. It reminded him that this world wasn't just about adventurers and warriors—there were ordinary people trying to survive in the shadow powerful being.
At the bar, a pair of mercenaries were discussing their latest job.
"You hear about that bounty on the ogre chief up north?" one mercenary asked, wiping the foam from his drink. "Big money for anyone who can bring his head to the king."
"Yeah, I heard," his companion replied. "But the last group that went after him didn't come back. That ogre's no joke—he can use magic which makes you wonder if the money's worth the risk."
As the conversations continued, a group of townsfolk at a nearby table discussed more domestic matters.
"Did you see the new tailor shop that opened up on Main Street?" one woman asked, her tone light and gossipy.
"Oh, I saw! The fabrics she uses are like nothing you find around here," another woman replied, her eyes lighting up. "I'm saving up to buy one of her pieces. Imagine walking into the market in a dress like that!"
The carefree gossip was interrupted by a loud thud as a burly man slammed his mug on the table. "Enough about dresses," he growled, clearly irritated. "What's important is what we're going to do about this raid. If the southern villages fall, we're all in trouble."
Zephyron glanced at the man, interested. "Raid or no raid, you don't seem too worried," he remarked, his voice casual as he addressed the man. Zephyron said to the man.
The burly man looked over, sizing Zephyron up. "Worried? Ha! I've been through worse. Still, I'm not about to sit here and do nothing. Those soldiers are going to need help, and I could get some gold coin."
A few others around the tavern nodded in agreement. "If the kingdom's in danger, we've got to defend it," one of the bounty hunters said, standing up. "The raids are getting worse, and it's only a matter of time before the capital's under threat."
The conversation turned serious as more people began to discuss the growing dangers in the region. Mercenaries and adventurers debated whether they should head south to join the defense or stay in the capital to protect their interests. The common folk were clearly worried, but most of them felt powerless to do anything about it.
Zephyron glancing at the map displayed on the Wall was surprised, Something was wrong with that map. This map didn't match the one from the original plot. He motioned to a waitress who was passing by.
"Excuse me," Zephyron said, his voice calm but curious. "This map, it's different from what I know. Is it correct? I thought there were only three continents, but this one shows a fourth—the largest one. It wasn't supposed to exist."
The waitress, a woman in her mid-twenties with a friendly but tired smile, leaned in to get a better look at the map.
"Looks like you are from western nations after all Mystery Continent is just 300 km from nasca's sea boundaries"
Zephyron raised an eyebrow. "Mystery Continent?" He never heard of it.
"Yes," she said, lowering her voice as if not wanting to draw attention. "It's the fourth continent, but people rarely talk about it. It's called the Mystery Continent because it's filled with unknowns. No one knows its full history or what lies deep within it. Adventurers who go there… few return."
Zephyron frowned. "What's so dangerous about it?"
The waitress hesitated. "There are rumors... some say there's a being as stronger as True Dragons that resides there. Others say it's a land of forgotten gods and ancient demon's. The entire continent is a mystery, hence the name. Most people avoid it unless they're desperate or suicidal."
Zephyron leaned back, deep in thought. This was new—this continent, these dangers. The original world he knew didn't have anything of the sort. He wanted to ask more questions, but just then, the door to the tavern burst open, and a soldier rushed in, his armor clanking loudly against the wooden floor.
"Raid!" the soldier yelled, his voice frantic. "The border villages are under attack! We need every able-bodied person above rank E to defend the kingdom!"
The tavern exploded into chaos. Some loyal adventurers leaped from their seats, grabbing their weapons ready to protect there kingdom.
Mercenaries exchanged quick glances and downed the rest of their drinks, while bounty hunters weighed the potential profit in their heads. Common folk, however, were gripped with panic, murmuring among themselves as they hurried to leave.
Zephyron remained seated, observing the scene with saddened eyes. He could feel the rising tension and the scent of fear in the air.
The waitress turned back to Zephyron, fear evident in her voice. "I'm sorry, but I have to go."
He nodded absentmindedly. As she rushed away, his mind drifted to the Mystery Continent again, but now was not the time for more questions.
After sometime when almost everyone left Zephyron, leaned forward in his seat and motioned for the waitress to return. She came over, a bit flustered from the earlier chaos but still smiling.
"You said there's a being are as strong as the True Dragons on that continent," Zephyron said quietly. "Do you know anything else about it?"
The waitress hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. "Not much more, I'm afraid. Just stories passed down through generations. They say that long ago, an ancient force slumbered on that land, waiting for something—or someone—to awaken it."
"Even storm dragon veldora once go there was killed and from than on he never go there."
"Also people who returned from that contenent become different people"
"Different how?" Zephyron asked, intrigued.
"Changed. Their minds shattered, their bodies twisted by something they saw or encountered. It's like the land itself doesn't want anyone to understand its secrets." She shuddered slightly, as if the mere thought of the place unsettled her.
Before Zephyron could press further, the door to the tavern burst open once again. This time, it wasn't just a single soldier—it was a whole squad, their armor gleaming in the flickering tavern light. The leader, a grizzled captain, barked out orders.
"Everyone capable of holding a weapon, get ready!" he shouted. "The raid has reached the outskirts of the town!"
Panic swept through the tavern once again as people scrambled to prepare and even the waitress was going to the frontline.
Zephyron stood up, calmly adjusting his cloak. The world had changed, but one thing remained the same—there was always conflict, and there were always those who thrived in the midst of it. He could not help but remember about earth and how it was destroyed by the alliance.
He stepped outside, ready to face whatever challenge awaited him in this kingdom which will be a superpower in the future.
"I guess I'll have to see for myself," he muttered, heading toward the exit. If this raid was as serious as it sounded, he couldn't afford to ignore it. After all, it was a different world, and he needed to understand what had changed.
As he stepped outside, the cries of people fleeing the streets echoed in his ears. In the distance, he could see smoke rising from the southern horizon, and the distinct sounds of battle drifted through the air. Zephyron's wings flickered into existence for a brief moment and he was already at High ground in the sky.
"I might as well see what this kingdom has to offer," he whispered to himself with a small smirk.
With that, Zephyron leapt into the air, heading toward the front lines.