CHAPTER 2: CARRIAGE

The Mage glared at the Murim warrior with clear anger. The man had stopped him, and it was like fire meeting steel. Their eyes locked, both filled with the will to fight.

"Let's go," the Mage said coldly, meaning to take the fight somewhere else.

Before they could move, a man appeared out of nowhere. He was dressed in black and bowed deeply like a servant before a king. His voice was calm but carried weight.

"Welcome, hunters. Please, do not make the LORD wait."

The word LORD made both the Mage and the Murim warrior turn serious. They understood at once that this was no ordinary summons. A heavy killing intent suddenly filled the air, warning them that if they caused trouble here, they would not leave alive.

The mage clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"Tsk. Lead the way."

As he spoke, his mana burst out in a wave, pressing down only on the butler. The man staggered, struggling to breathe, but still kept his bow.

"P-please follow me, Sir Great Mage," he said with effort.

The mage stopped, sighing as he pulled his aura back.

"Alright."

The butler gasped for air but quickly straightened his posture again.

"Thank you for your mercy, Sir Mage," he said, then turned to the Murim warrior. "Please follow as well, Sir Warrior."

The warrior gave a short nod, his expression unreadable. Both of them began to follow the butler, their earlier hostility set aside in the face of the LORD's command.

After the mage and the Murim warrior left with the butler, the old man turned to the boy. His face was serious, his eyes sharp.

"Did you look at them very well?" he asked.

The boy straightened, sensing the weight behind his father's words.

"Yes, Father. I looked at them very well," he answered with the same seriousness.

The old man let out a long sigh.

"Those people… they are only at the bottom of power."

The boy's eyes widened in disbelief. His thoughts raced. How can that be? They were already too strong… stronger than anyone I have ever seen. How can that be the bottom?

He finally asked aloud, "How can you be so sure, Father? Are they not too powerful to be at the bottom?"

The old man's gaze grew colder, his voice steady.

"Truly powerful people do not waste their time with such tricks. The ones at the top do not even need to show themselves, because normal people cannot comprehend them. They can fly through the sky or vanish in an instant. But today… there is a chance to see one."

His expression shifted, a mix of worry and excitement.

"Mages from noble households and high-ranking families are coming. Their tradition demands they arrive in carriages, escorted by armies of mages and warriors. This is our chance. If any of them notice you, they may recognize your talent."

The boy clenched his fists, then smiled.

"Yes, Father. I will do my best."

They waited together. Carriage after carriage passed, escorted by shining warriors and proud mages. To the crowd, it was a breathtaking display. To those without mana, it looked like gods were walking among men. The pressure in the air was so heavy it felt like dying a thousand times.

Yet to the old man and the boy, each passing figure was carefully measured. Each one carried mana, their steps precise, their movements controlled, as if scanning every soul they passed. But not a single one stopped. No one turned their gaze toward the boy.

The old man frowned, his eyes narrowing.

"Remember this," he whispered. "If you are recognized… do your best. And if anyone stands in your way, you must cut them down without hesitation."

The boy's face turned grim.

"Yes, Father."

More carriages rolled by, nobles and warriors who looked untouchable. The air was suffocating, yet none of them paid attention to the crowd.

And then…

A carriage appeared, different from the rest. It shone with quiet power, and the moment the boy's eyes fell on it, his heart ached. A sudden wave of sadness, of longing, welled up inside him. He did not understand why, but it felt as if something within that carriage was calling to him.

The pressure grew heavier, almost unbearable. Both the boy and the old man struggled to remain standing, their breaths ragged, but their eyes never left the carriage.

Something was different this time.

Something inside told the boy… this was the beginning. 

Inside that carriage, a woman looked out through the curtain. Her eyes landed on the boy.

For a short moment, the two of them felt something strange. The boy felt sadness and longing in his heart, while the woman also felt something she could not explain. It was as if they were connected somehow.

But the carriage did not stop. Powerful people never paid attention to such feelings. The curtain closed, and the carriage moved on until it was gone.

When all the carriages had passed, the pressure in the air became heavier. One by one, people in the crowd fell to the ground, fainting as if their bodies could no longer take it. The old man and the boy were the last ones standing, both of them breathing hard, their bodies shaking from the strain.

Then the old man's legs gave out. He collapsed.

"Father!" the boy shouted, rushing forward to catch him.

The boy was surprised. Even though everyone else collapsed, he still felt fine. It was as if something had protected him when the carriage passed by, blocking the pressure that crushed everyone else. He thought back to the strange feeling when he looked at the woman in the carriage.

He held his father tightly, lifting him into his arms. Without looking back at the fallen crowd, the boy carried his father away from the castle gates, heading home.

The night was silent once more, but in the boy's heart, the strange feeling from the carriage still lingered.

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