The sprawling streets of Draegoth unfurled before Noah like a dark tapestry, filled with both the mundane and the extraordinary. It was a city where cruelty thrived openly, and strength dictated morality. For Noah, it was a refreshing change from the hypocritical pretense of humanity's so-called civilized lands.
Accompanied by Kalis, his loyal subordinate, Noah decided to explore the underbelly of this chaotic metropolis. They traversed the winding streets, the towering obsidian buildings casting long shadows over the bustling crowd of demons, outlaws, and opportunists. The city exuded an energy unlike any other Noah had experienced—a place where ambition was sharpened into a blade, and only the strong survived.
---
Their walk brought them to the **Duskwarren District**, an area notorious for its lawlessness even within Draegoth. Here, the strong preyed openly on the weak, and the concept of justice was an afterthought. Amid the cacophony of voices and the clash of deals being struck, Noah's keen ears picked up on a conversation that piqued his interest.
"...the underground slave market is thriving this week. Fresh stock from the borderlands. Perfect for whatever… needs you have," a wiry demon whispered to a cloaked figure.
Noah stopped mid-stride, a faint smirk playing across his lips. He turned to Kalis, who had also caught the exchange.
"An underground slave market," Noah mused, his crimson eyes gleaming with intrigue. "I never considered this city could be *this* accommodating."
"An efficient system, my lord," Kalis said with a small nod. "It spares you the effort of hunting while providing a steady supply of sustenance."
"Indeed," Noah replied, his tone light yet brimming with delight. "I expected Draegoth to be unconventional, but this surpasses even my expectations. No need for subterfuge or moral pretense—just raw pragmatism. I like it."
He resolved to investigate the market soon. It was a practical solution to a recurring problem, and it aligned perfectly with the city's ethos of strength over sentimentality.
---
As they moved deeper into the district, the noise of the crowd abruptly shifted. Gasps and murmurs filled the air, drawing Noah's attention to a small square where a tense scene was unfolding.
In the center stood **Zaren Malgrim**, the towering Berserker Noah had observed during the tournament. His massive cleaver rested on his shoulder, its edge stained with fresh blood. Before him knelt a cowering merchant, his trembling hands raised in a futile attempt at self-preservation.
"I warned you," Zaren growled, his voice a deep rumble. "When you deal with the Malgrim Clan, failure is not an option."
"P-please, Lord Zaren," the merchant stammered. "I just need more time! The shipment was delayed, but I swear it will—"
The words were cut off abruptly as Zaren's cleaver swung downward, cleaving the merchant in two. Blood sprayed across the cobblestones, eliciting a collective gasp from the onlookers. The crowd fell silent as Zaren turned to leave, his expression one of utter indifference.
---
Standing in the shadow of a nearby alley, Noah watched the scene with detached amusement. He saw the fear in the faces of the crowd, the awe they directed toward Zaren. Strength commanded respect here, even if it was born of brutality.
Kalis turned to Noah, his expression unreadable. "Should we intervene, my lord?"
Noah scoffed, a sharp laugh escaping him. "Intervene? For what purpose? To defend weakness?"
He stepped out of the alley, watching as Zaren strode away, his cleaver still dripping blood. "That merchant was weak—too weak to honor his commitments, too weak to defend himself. His death is a reminder that this world does not forgive frailty. And why should it?"
Kalis nodded, though his eyes lingered on the merchant's mangled corpse. Noah, however, was already lost in thought.
"Strength defines value," Noah said, almost to himself. "It's a simple truth, but one that so many cling to illusions to avoid confronting. That merchant's existence was meaningless because he lacked the strength to ensure it had meaning."
He turned to Kalis, his crimson gaze piercing. "I despise weakness—not because it offends me, but because it is a choice. Everyone has the capacity to rise above their limitations, yet so many choose not to. They cling to their mediocrity, hoping others will save them from the consequences of their inadequacy."
---
As they walked away from the gruesome scene, Noah felt a rare moment of clarity. The city of Draegoth resonated with his own philosophy. It was a crucible of strength, a place where only the most capable thrived.
"This city," Noah said softly, "it understands. It doesn't hide behind pretense or morality. It strips away the veneer of civilization and reveals the truth beneath: survival is a game of power, and only the strong can write the rules."
He glanced at Kalis. "Do you understand what that means, Kalis?"
Kalis met his gaze, his expression resolute. "It means we must become stronger, my lord. Stronger than anyone else in this city, this world."
Noah smiled, a cold, predatory grin. "Precisely. And we will. But strength alone is not enough. We must also be cunning, relentless, and unyielding. The heirs of Draegoth think they're the pinnacle of power. Soon enough, they'll learn just how wrong they are."
--
Noah resolved to deepen his understanding of Draegoth's power structure. The underground slave market would be his first step—a resource to sustain him and a potential avenue for influence. Beyond that, he needed to position himself within the city's elite, not just as a force to be reckoned with, but as a player in its endless game of power.
His encounter with Zaren had also reminded him of the importance of allies and enemies. The Berserker's ruthlessness was impressive, but his reliance on brute force would eventually be his downfall. Noah, on the other hand, was building something far more enduring—a foundation of strength, strategy, and unwavering ambition.
As they returned to his estate, Noah felt a deep sense of satisfaction. Draegoth was proving to be everything he had hoped for and more. A city that mirrored his own ethos, a place where he could thrive without restraint. And when the time came, it would serve as the perfect base from which to launch his conquest of the world.