The first light of dawn barely touched the city of Noval, its orange glow smothered by the smog of industry. Steam hissed from vents in the cobblestone streets, mingling with the acrid scent of oil and soot.
The towering spires above gleamed with metallic precision, a testament to the wealth and power of Zagris. But down here, in the shadow of progress, the slums told a different story.
Tenjin crouched in the shadow of a rusted pipe, his golden eyes fixed on the market square ahead. Two years of living on these streets had taught him one thing: survival was all that mattered.
He adjusted the hood of his frayed jacket, ensuring it shadowed his face, and exhaled slowly. The air was cold, biting against his skin, but he barely noticed. Hunger gnawed at his stomach like a persistent, mocking reminder of his place in the world.
"One loaf," he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the hum of steam-powered carts and the shouts of merchants. "That's all I need."
The market district was a maze of crooked stalls and narrow alleys. Merchants hawked everything from mana-infused gadgets to tarnished relics.
Above the noise, Wielders in their pristine robes strolled through the chaos, their mana-threaded garments shimmering faintly. They moved with an air of detachment, as though the filth of the slums couldn't touch them.
Tenjin's gaze lingered on one for a moment, a tall woman whose boots left no sound on the stone. Her aura radiated power.
"Focus" he told himself, tearing his eyes away.
A stall piled high with bread caught his attention. The vendor, a grizzled man with a booming voice, argued with a customer. Tenjin's heart quickened.
He scanned the area.
No guards in sight.
Perfect.
His body moved instinctively, slipping through the crowd like a shadow. He timed his steps with the clamor around him, his breathing steady.
In one fluid motion, he swiped a loaf from the stall and tucked it under his jacket.
The vendor turned, his head snapping toward the movement, but Tenjin was already gone, melting into the labyrinth of alleys.
Once he was clear, he ducked behind a stack of crates and tore into the bread. The warm crust gave way to softness, and for a moment, the world didn't feel so cruel.
He swallowed quickly, his body screaming for more, but he forced himself to slow down. This had to last.
As he took another bite, a familiar voice sneered behind him. "Well, well, look who's eating like a king."
Tenjin turned sharply to see three boys blocking the alleyway, each grinning maliciously.
The leader, a lanky teen named Korrin, spun a rusted pipe in his hand. "You been holding out on us, Tenjin?"
"I don't have time for this," Tenjin said, shoving the bread into his jacket. He stood, his muscles tensing.
"You think you can just ignore us?" Korrin stepped closer, his cronies flanking him. "You owe us for letting you live in our territory."
"I don't owe you anything."
Korrin's grin widened. "Wrong answer."
He lunged, swinging the pipe.
Whoosh!
Tenjin ducked, his movements fluid. He countered with a quick kick to Korrin's knee, sending him stumbling back. But the other two rushed him, fists flying.
Thud! Tenjin dodged the first punch and landed an elbow to one boy's ribs, but the second grabbed him from behind.
"Gotcha now!" the boy sneered, his grip tightening.
Tenjin snarled, slamming his head backward into the boy's nose.
Crunch! The grip loosened, and Tenjin spun, sweeping the boy's legs out from under him.
But as he turned, Korrin's pipe connected with his side.
Wham! Pain exploded through his ribs, and he staggered, gasping for air.
The fight turned into a blur of fists and chaos. Tenjin fought like a cornered animal, his speed and agility keeping him in the game.
He leapt onto a nearby crate, using the height to deliver a sharp kick to one boy's face. Smack! The boy reeled backward, crashing into the dirt.
Korrin shouted something incoherent, swinging his pipe wildly. Tenjin dodged again, his movements fueled by desperation. His hands found a loose plank, and he swung it at Korrin, forcing him to retreat.
But the reprieve was short-lived. The third boy tackled him from the side, pinning him down. Tenjin thrashed, driving his elbow into the boy's stomach. Oof! The weight lifted, but not fast enough.
Korrin's pipe came down again, striking Tenjin's shoulder. Crack! The pain was searing, and Tenjin fell to his knees.
A final blow to his stomach sent him crumpling to the ground.
Thud! Korrin knelt beside him, pulling the loaf of bread from his jacket.
"Thanks for the snack" Korrin said, laughing as he stood. "Next time, learn your place"
The three boys disappeared, leaving Tenjin sprawled in the dirt. Blood trickled from his lip, and his whole body ached.
He forced himself to sit up, his vision swimming. His money pouch was gone, too. Everything he had stolen, gone in an instant.
"Damn it" he muttered, wiping the blood from his mouth. But he didn't cry. He couldn't. Crying didn't solve anything.
As he stumbled to his feet, a sound caught his attention footsteps, deliberate and heavy.
He froze, his muscles tensing. The air shifted, growing colder. Then he saw him.
A man stepped into the alley, his silhouette framed by the dim light of a steam lantern. His clothes were immaculate, a stark contrast to the grime around him.
A long coat embroidered with mana-thread billowed slightly as he walked, and his gloved hands rested casually at his sides. His presence radiated authority, an oppressive weight that made the air hard to breathe.
A Wielder. And not just any Wielder, one from The Order.
Tenjin's heart pounded in his chest. He took an instinctive step back, his golden eyes locked on the man's face. Cold, sharp features. Eyes like ice. This was no ordinary enforcer.
The man's voice was low and cutting. "You've been causing trouble."
Tenjin's mind raced. He couldn't fight this man. Running seemed impossible. His body tensed, ready to move, but his legs felt like lead.
"What's your name?" the Wielder demanded, taking a step closer. His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, a promise of violence.
Tenjin didn't answer. His fists clenched at his sides, his instincts screaming at him to run, to disappear. But the man raised a hand, and with it, the air seemed to shift again.
Tenjin felt a pressure against his chest, invisible but suffocating, pinning him in place.
"Answer me" the Wielder said, his tone leaving no room for defiance.
Tenjin's breathing quickened. His mind raced for an escape, but nothing seemed viable. The man's hand hovered slightly, a faint shimmer of fire dancing around his fingertips.
The standoff stretched, the tension thick enough to cut. Tenjin's legs tensed, ready to move, his eyes darting for an opening. But the Wielder didn't strike. Not yet.
He just stood there, his icy gaze locked onto Tenjin, as though daring him to make the first move. The air between them crackled with unspoken threats.
Tenjin's heart pounded, his body coiled like a spring, the tension unbearable.
This wasn't a fight he could win,
Not now,
Not ever