Three months.
It was difficult to grasp how swiftly the days had passed since we began building the aqueduct. The city had changed in subtle yet profound ways, and so had I.
The reports on the Hero's party came sporadically, often passed through whispers among merchants or delivered by exhausted messengers. Tales of their exploits carried the weight of a legend unfolding in real time. They had crossed the Infernal Cliffs and ventured deep into the Black Labyrinth. I'd heard they defeated a lich said to rival any mortal mage in power. They were moving closer to the Demon King's fortress with every step.
For most, those stories inspired hope and romance for adventure. For me, they were reminders of my place in this tale. I wasn't part of their grand march to save the world. My battlefield was here, in Nivara. Holding the line, ensuring that when they struck the final blow, there would still be a nation for them to come back to.
And speaking of Nivara, the aqueduct had become the city's lifeline in more ways than one. Its construction loomed over the outskirts, a testament to the city's resilience and ambition. Every pillar raised brought a little more light into people's eyes, a little more confidence in their steps. It wasn't just an aqueduct; it was hope carved into stone.
Yet progress came with its own set of challenges. The Zendarians had remained eerily silent, but I could feel their gaze lingering on us like a wolf stalking its prey. And at any moment, I felt that they were about to pounce.
We were stretched thin after all.
There was more than enough material to complete the aqueduct, but the process was grueling. Between hauling marble from the defeated masterless golems—courtesy of Garth and the soldiers—coordinating the architects' intricate designs, and managing the workers' relentless efforts, the entire endeavor had become more draining than any battle I'd ever fought.
In addition to that, the administration of Nivara had grown into a beast of its own.
Serena, unsurprisingly, had proven indispensable. Her knack for organization, combined with her sharp intuition, had turned her into the city's beating heart. She handled disputes among guilds, collected taxes, and even devised a plan to ensure fair distribution of resources during the ongoing construction.
She'd earned the respect of the council, a feat I'd thought impossible when she first arrived. Even the most obstinate guild leaders, men who'd scoffed at the idea of a "banished mage," now sought her advice. Watching her work, I couldn't help but marvel.
Celine, on the other hand, was a different challenge entirely. Integrating a centuries-old vampire into Nivara's society was about as easy as taming a storm. Not that she caused trouble—far from it. Her demeanor was polite, even regal. But she had an air about her that unsettled most people.
I couldn't blame them.
For all her charm, Celine's otherness was undeniable. She preferred the nights, often wandering the city under the cover of darkness. Children whispered that she was a spirit come to protect the aqueduct, while others feared she might be something far worse.
Still, she'd earned her place.
Monsters had stayed far from our borders since her arrival, their primal instincts warning them away from her presence. And while she rarely involved herself in public matters, her occasional insights during council meetings were invaluable. People might not trust her, but they couldn't deny her wisdom.
Life in Nivara has become energetic. Filled with purpose. Its citizens no longer saw Nivara as a crumbling frontier city. It was becoming something greater, something worth protecting.
I was happy. But of course, none of it came without sacrifice.
Serena and I rarely had time to see each other. Between meetings, inspections, and training sessions, the days blurred together. Even Celine, who seemed to float above the chaos, had taken on more than I expected.
She'd become something of a mentor to the city's aspiring mages. Watching her teach was strange. She was patient, far more than I'd imagined, and she had a way of explaining the arcane that left even the most stubborn pupils wide-eyed. Among those was Serena.
The older adventurers were wary of her, but the younger generation seemed more open. They didn't see her as a dangerous Vampire. They saw her as a teacher.
It was late when I finally found a moment to breathe. The moon hung high, its pale light washing over the city. From the balcony of the manor, I could see the aqueduct stretching toward the horizon, its incomplete arches stark against the night sky.
Serena joined me, her face a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction. She leaned against the railing, her gaze fixed on the same view.
"Well, Adrian, it's coming together," she said softly.
"It is," I replied, though my mind lingered on the unspoken challenges ahead.
"Are you still thinking Zendaria will make a move?" she continued.
"Oh, I'm sure they will," I admitted, my tone grim. "Countless lives have already been sacrificed to hold this frontier. Those who ruled before me didn't bother improving the lives of the people here. So Zendaria has treated this place as nothing but a small nuisance that'll get extinguished as long as you throw forces at it." I then gestured to the shadow of our pride and joy. "But this aqueduct changes everything. It's more than stone and water—it's a statement. A statement that if the people can flourish in this hostile land, then Zendaria won't easily overtake us. Because of this, once word of it reaches their ears—and I know it already has—they'll stop at nothing to destroy it."
"Wow, I didn't realize that this project meant that much," she said, her yawn trailing off into a soft sigh. "Here I thought it's just so that those adventurers can take a bath."
I didn't respond right away, letting the silence settle between us like the embers of the campfire.
Finally, I spoke, a smile playing on my lips. "It does. And for what it's worth, I'm glad your family banished you here. You've been a big help."
Serena glanced at me, her lips curving into a wide grin. "What's this? You're sounding awfully sentimental, Adrian. I thought life on the frontier was supposed to make you tougher."
"Don't tell anyone," I said, keeping my tone light. "It'd ruin my reputation."
She laughed, the sound bright and unexpected, cutting through the lingering tension like sunlight breaking through heavy clouds. For a moment, it almost felt like everything might be okay.
But deep down, I knew better. This was just the calm before the storm.
And like the seasons, the storm arrived without fail. This time in the form of three visitors.
"Please! Save us!" one of them cried, their voice desperate as they leaned against the city gates. "The Demon King's army—they've invaded us!"
It so happened that I was inspecting the walls with Garth when they arrived. From a distance, I could see how tattered they looked—cloaks in shreds, faces pale, and movements sluggish with exhaustion. One was a human, gaunt and clutching a staff for support. The other two were canine Beastfolk, their hairy bodies and pointed, dog-like ears making them unmistakable.
"Garth," I said, tilting my head toward the scene. "Would you mind taking a closer look?"
He gave a curt nod. "Yes, milord."
Garth returned a few minutes later, his expression a mix of disgust and suspicion.
"They're Zendarians," he practically spat. "Say their Emperor sent them to ask for aid. Demons have overrun their land, and they claim refugees are already heading this way."
I raised an eyebrow. "Do you believe them?"
"Hell no!" Garth snarled.
"Good. Neither do I." I couldn't help but chuckle. "Let them in, though. Give them food, water, and a bath. Then throw them in the dungeon."
Garth smirked, shaking his head. "Sometimes I think you're too kind, Lord Adrian. If it were me, I'd have killed them on the spot."
"And that's why you're not the lord," I replied with a smirk.
"What about the young miss?" he asked. "You think she'd agree on this?"
"Of course," I replied. "Serena's smarter than I am you know. I'm sure she can see what I'm seeing."
Later that day, we found Serena in the garden of the mansion, enjoying one of her rare moments of peace. She was seated under the shade of a tree, a delicate porcelain teacup in her hand. The faint aroma of herbs wafted in the breeze.
"Serena," I began, "we had some visitors today."
She looked up from her tea, her expression skeptical. "Oh? Do tell."
"They were Zendarians," Garth said, his voice laced with disdain. "Claiming they're refugees and asking for help. Adrian let them in."
"What?" Serena's teacup clattered against the saucer as she stood abruptly. "What were you thinking, Adrian?"
I blinked, genuinely surprised. "Wait—you're against this? I thought you'd agree with me."
"And I thought you'd back me up," Garth added with a triumphant chuckle.
Serena shot him a glare before turning her ire back to me. "They're the enemy! Have you forgotten the old saying? 'All is fair in love and war.' They're probably spies, Adrian. You just invited wolves into the fold."
"Oh, I'm well aware they're spies," I replied calmly. "But while they're here, we can get information from them. This isn't charity—it's strategy."
Serena narrowed her eyes, studying me. "You've got something planned, don't you?"
"Lyra's due to return soon," I said, folding my arms. "She'll confirm what's happening in Zendaria—or expose these three as liars. Until then, they're staying here. And Garth can have fun interrogating them."
"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Garth grinned.
As we spoke, I noticed Celine walking nearby, her usual air of elegance marred by a faint scowl.
"Celine!" I called out.
She turned, her sharp features twisting into an expression of disdain. "Little Lysvalen," she said, her voice dripping with condescension. "I assume it was your decision to bring the mutts into the city."
"Mutts?" I frowned. "You mean the canine Beastfolk?"
"Not Beastfolk," she corrected, her tone turning grim. "Werewolves. Their kind lives for two things: pleasure and pain. Sadists who revel in torment and hedonists who can't control their base desires. If Zendaria's aligned with them, then your enemies are far more depraved than you realize."
Her words gave me pause. I glanced at Serena and Garth, who both seemed equally unsettled.
Before I could respond, Celine started to walk away.
"Wait," I called after her. "Where are you going?"
She looked back, her expression unreadable. "To get away from the smell," she said dryly. "And to fulfill my promise to you."
With that, she disappeared into the evening shadows, leaving us to ponder her ominous words.