On this day, Altu, escorted by royal guards, set out for the capital of Strongson—Yaltos. Along the way, he sat in the carriage, quietly observing the scenery through a gap in the curtain, pondering the history of Strongson.
Strongson's history dates back Hundreds of years. It began as a colony established by Western continent immigrants at the edge of the Eastern continent.
The leader at the time, Hagnat Strongson, united pirates, mercenaries, and exiled nobles, swiftly conquering several neighboring city-states and declaring the founding of the Kingdom of Strongson. He built the first royal palace in Yaltos, positioning the city as a symbol of power. Meanwhile, New Port rose from a remote fishing village to a prosperous trade hub. Its strategic geographic location made it the intermediary for goods between the East and West. The golden age of New Port occurred several decades ago, when the streets were lined with bustling shops, and the harbor hosted merchant ships from all corners of the world.
However, as Strongson's power shifted, the kingdom increasingly engaged in external wars. The ascension of the new king, Leon, led to the exploitation of domestic nobles, with power struggles and the plundering of wealth, which caused an economic decline. Though New Port still maintains some basic prosperity, the once vibrant energy is no longer present. Outside the harbor, Strongson's warships are stationed year-round, like indifferent eyes watching every ship that enters. Within the city, the streets are filled with more poor and beggars, and the former glory of the city now only survives in the tales of old sailors.
In contrast to the openness and turbulence of New Port, Yaltos appeared more solid and cold. The city sat on a vast plain, renowned for its towering stone walls and ancient buildings. Outside the city lay many ruins of palaces and temples, remnants of Strongson's early expansion. However, today's Yaltos bore a more oppressive atmosphere.
Altu observed that the roads outside Yaltos were flanked by vast, orderly fields, where farmers wielded their tools in perfect synchronization, as though performing a silent rehearsal. Altu frowned slightly. The highly organized agricultural efficiency was impressive, but it also revealed Strongson's suppression of individual freedom.
On the roads, patrol squads frequently passed by, their armor reflecting the blinding sunlight, with spears standing in neat rows. Every time they passed, Altu could feel the oppressive aura in the air. His gaze swept over the soldiers, and he inwardly reflected: "Strongson is indeed a well-oiled machine, but I wonder if its lubricant is blood, or fear."
The carriage continued forward, and villages and towns gradually came into view. These places were meticulously planned, with houses almost identical, each brick seemingly measured and precise, but lacking vitality. Children played cautiously in the streets, as if afraid of breaking some invisible rule. Altu watched this scene, his gaze deep: "If a city is like this, what must the capital look like?"
Finally, when he arrived at Yaltos, he looked out the carriage window and saw the core of Strongson's power. In the distance, the main city loomed large, its thick walls like a giant beast protecting the city within. The towering spires seemed to pierce the sky.
Outside the city gate, statues in the square depicted the history of the Kingdom of Strongson: a king holding a sword high, standing on a pedestal, symbolizing strength and conquest. The towers of the castle reached into the clouds, with every column engraved with reliefs of war and victory. Inside the city, the main street was wide and solemn, with soldiers marching in perfect unison, their gaze as sharp as blades. In contrast, the surrounding buildings seemed small and silent, as if making way for the grandeur of the castle.