Chapter 100: Northwind Keep Log (I)
Disheveled and ragged, Langli BaiTiao finally caught sight of the towering City Wall in the distance.
"Finally... Northwind Keep."
Tears welled up in his eyes, streaking through the grime on his face.
The past few months had been brutal—yet he had miraculously survived every ordeal. First, he’d been knocked unconscious by a club-wielding Hill Giant from the Storm Ridge frontier, captured as livestock, and nearly roasted alive. Just as the fire crackled and the knife hovered above him, his Rogue instincts kicked in. With nimble fingers, he freed himself from the ropes, then vanished into the Veil of Illusion.
But escape from one hell only led him into another. A band of marauding Ogres spotted him immediately, stripping him bare of every scrap of Gear and dragging him into the mines as slave labor. He’d toiled beneath the earth for over a month—until now, when he’d finally broken free and stumbled toward safety.
The memory made his jaw clench.
"This time, in Northwind Keep, I’m going to make my mark!"
At the gate, dozens of Guards patrolled, their chests adorned with the emblem of an eagle crossed with a sword—the insignia of the Eagle’s Shield, Northwind Keep’s city defense force and the sworn enforcers of the Duchy of Lakanman. With the city on high alert, every incoming traveler was subjected to strict questioning and inspection.
The streets buzzed with life—merchants herding carts, weary travelers hurrying past.
Langli BaiTiao quickly pulled his hood low, blending into the crowd, hoping to slip through unnoticed.
Then—thwack!—a spear blocked his path.
"Stop!"
"Five Silver Coins. That’s your entry fee."
Langli BaiTiao froze. Five silver coins? He didn’t have a single coin. Everything he owned had been stripped away by the Ogres. Even this cloak was stolen from a passing Caravan. He was penniless—barely clothed, utterly destitute.
A forced smile crept onto his face.
"Sir, my money was stolen just outside the city. I need to go back..."
The Guard glared, his spear now jabbing at Langli BaiTiao’s nose.
"And how do we know you’re not a spy? Don’t think you can fool us!"
The smile vanished. His shoulders slumped. He turned to leave—only to be stopped again.
"Stop!"
"Y-yes, sir? What is it?"
"Who said you could go?"
Langli BaiTiao nearly wept.
Was there no justice left? He couldn’t enter. He couldn’t leave. What was he supposed to do?
He considered using the Veil of Illusion to vanish—just run. But then he paused. After everything he’d endured, to activate the illusion now would confirm him as a spy. One wrong move, and he’d be riddled with arrows, then respawned at the starting point—his suffering for nothing.
And worse—those cruel, mocking voices would echo in his mind:
"Look, the Wandering Beast has returned."
"Welcome back, Wandering Beast."
For the first time in his reckless, fearless life, Langli BaiTiao bit his lip—hard.
Then I’ll just stay here. If I get arrested, I’ll still be inside. That counts as entering, right?
He wasn’t going to die today.
He struck up a conversation with the Guard, voice light and casual.
"Sir, the weather’s nice today."
"Did you eat?"
"Nice outfit you’ve got there."
But the Guard ignored him, cold-eyed, still dragging in the beggars and vagrants trying to sneak through. More and more refugees gathered around him.
Soon, a new patrol arrived.
The crowd was handed over to them, and at last, they were allowed through the gates of Northwind Keep.
Inside, the city thrived—bustling with commerce and movement. But the refugees were led down a narrow, forgotten alleyway.
Langli BaiTiao frowned. "Where are we going?"
"Keep quiet," one muttered.
"Shut up, why don’t you?"
The lead Guard didn’t look back—treated him like a corpse.
The deeper they went, the more oppressive the air became. Shadows stretched long, and the forest loomed thick and dark. Then, ahead, he saw a large stone building, its wooden sign hanging in tatters—Refugee Shelter.
The place was surrounded by dense, shadowed woods. No one came here. Only the guards at the gate—and now, the refugees.
Langli BaiTiao shivered.
Not another sweatshop, please...
He was ushered inside.
Rusted iron cages lined the walls, stained with dried, blackened blood. Pools of urine and filth lingered untouched. The air reeked of iron and death.
He was taken further—down into the depths of the basement—and locked in a cage.
"Where am I?"
"Damn it..."
Darkness. Flickering lanterns.
He scanned the room. Inside the cages, emaciated, pale-skinned Humans huddled—bony, filthy, barely human. Some curled up, others lay motionless, packed into cages meant for far fewer. Ten people in one cage. The air was thick with whispering, rustling, the faint scrape of bones.
They weren’t people anymore. They were livestock. Or worse—they were meant to be.
Langli BaiTiao hesitated, then whispered:
"Hey… do any of you know where this is?"
"Do you know how to get out?"
No answer.
Then—slowly, in unison—their heads turned.
Their eyes—in the dark—glowed with a faint, crimson red.
Like predators. Like beasts. Like creatures staring at a meal.
"Whoa… you don’t have to be so intense," he muttered, stepping back.
"Food…"
"Blood…"
"I want blood!"
"I’ll drain you dry—"
The cages shook as the prisoners gripped the bars, pressing their faces against the metal, leaving red smears. Their hollow cheeks twisted into ravenous grins—faces of men who’d forgotten hunger, but remembered only the taste of flesh.
Langli BaiTiao’s brow furrowed.
Vampires?
No way… there’s no way this place has…
Then—tap, tap, tap—a steady rhythm echoed down the corridor.
Silence fell instantly. The Blood Slaves trembled, cowering like animals before a predator.
A cold, clear voice cut through the dark.
"Disgusting creatures."
A noblewoman approached, draped in heavy silken robes. Her face was pale, her features sharp—her expression one of utter disdain as she surveyed the cages.
"Alykshia Lady, it’s him," said a Guard beside her, pointing at Langli BaiTiao with reverence.
(End of Chapter)
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