The Transmigrated Author
Chapter 68: Fear

[Country: Novara]

Rising from the depths of the Atlantic Ocean. at its very centre, a new country formed under the name of Novara.

A massive formation of land that had appeared after the arrival of the 4 towers.

The sightings of this place appeared with nothing but dead land of grass and rocks, which swiftly turned into 5 cities split across the quarters of the newly made country.

It was also a land, where law bends and killing thrives, at its heart lies Eldoria, at the top left is where Crystal Shores is located, and to the top-right of the land where a mountain range built from slavery itself was Mountain Reach, the land located right across mountain reach was Aurorium Land and to the left of the land was Harmony Springs.

Crystal Shores: Shimmering sands on the edge of sapphire waters where the peaceful life occurs – this is Crystal Shores. More than a holiday paradise, its famed marine institute draws the rich who dream of living a vibrant sea life.

Eldoria City: A Luxury city made from corrupted wealth, Eldoria is a city built on its lawlessness and murder. The rich and strong occupy living in it as they are not bound by the rules of any government.

Mountain Reach: A Mountain completely occupied with countless dungeons, it is said that those who go there never come back alive, as a rumour of many S-Class dungeons are said to be located at 'Reach'.

Harmony Springs: Built by the God of mages Aeliana, this sacred place draws its power from restorative springs hidden deep within the earth. Lush gardens and winding paths mark the sanctuary, but its heart is protected from an unbreakable barrier.

Aurorium Land: Once a fertile region, now a monster-infested wasteland. From lowly E-Grade beasts to the terrifying S-Grade horrors lurking at its heart. Few dare risk entering into this land, and fewer still return.

***

[Country: Novara, Location: Eldoria, Atlantic Ocean]

[12:30 PM]

The harsh midday sun blazed on the golden roofs of Eldoria, turning the grimy streets into an oven. It was the scent of decay, not blossoming green life, that filled the cracks between the towering faces of the buildings.

This was a city of pure violence not just a land of the rich, but one that mirrored the darkness flourishing within the lands. It was a ruthless metropolis built on greed and exploitation, and beneath that rich glow, an unseen rot permeated its very foundations.

In his tailored suit and long black coat, he differed sharply against the filth and neglect. Despite looking out of place, his presence was full of power, revealing silent authority that made hardened evil move aside.

His path, a shortcut to a building he recently had constructed, delivered an expected yet useful diversion.

Amid mounds of carelessly discarded rubbish, bodies lay scattered - remnants of a vicious power grab between factions beneath his notice.

A band of figures picked over the spoils; crude bandits, drunk on a petty victory. This echoed a pattern seen a thousand times: weak creatures clawing over each other for scraps.

Just as he expected to simply brush past this scene of misery, one of the bandits caught his approach. There was a flash of low cunning in those bloodshot eyes - this wasn't just a defensive reaction, but a flicker of calculation.

"Hold up, There Mister! Not see we got business goin' on here?" It wasn't aggression, but a mix of annoyance and avarice. They sensed a potential mark, ripe for easy exploitation.

Morwen simply continued his pace, regarding them as one would a swarm of insects eating a dead corpse. An unreadable stillness settled like a second shadow over his features. In the depths of his obscured eyes,

"Is this guy serious?" The bandit turned to see Morwen moving past him.

As the stench of old grease and discarded metal hung heavy in the abandoned junkyard lot and as seconds had passed by Morwen stood alone, Ten rough figures surrounded him, their hungry eyes fixated on him under the harsh glare of a distant street lamp.

"Where do you think you're going?"The leader, a scrawny guy with a cocky grin, stepped forward and jabbed Morwen's shoulder with a dirty fingernail.

"..."

Morwen barely reacted physically, but the touch had sparked a cold anger within him.

He pivoted slowly, meeting the bandit's gaze. "Did you just touch my shoulder?" His voice was low, barely a whisper, but it cut through the broad daylight.

The leader smirked. "Yeah, I did. Whatcha gonna do, rich boy? Ten against one. Your fancy clothes aren't gonna help you get out of this lawless land." The leader moved back away from Morwen showcasing a head of dead bandit to strike fear into Morwen.

His eyes hardened. They mirrored the cold light reflecting off the scrap metal surrounding them. "I was raised to kill those who touch me," he said, his voice eerily calm. "Maybe you need a reminder."

"You fucker." The bandit snapped, laughter rumbling in his throat. Then, he lunged.

Morwen's hand twitched, as the thugs surrounded him. They were pawns, nothing more, in the cold world of this country.

SHAK!

A lance of pure ice shot from his palm, piercing the body of the bandit with sickening ease. There was no scream, just a look of frozen shock as the life left his eyes. The body hurtled backward, shattering through a rusted-out car with a metallic screech.

A single word rippled through the remaining thugs "Kill him." There was fear now, undercutting their greed.

Morwen simply smiled, As he watched a flood of bandits flocking towards him.

Dodge, Dodge, Dodge,

Dodging was child's play. Bullets whizzed around him, Blades grazing the air, all of the attacks were annoyances as he threaded effortlessly between the panicked attacks.

SWANG!

With every move, he wrenched open shimmering portals. These weren't simple gateways, As streaks of Dark Energy fired through the air. One by one, with a flick of his wrist, he killed the bandits, their bodies were destroyed by the dark beams.

Five remained, huddled together, as their weapons dropped in horror. Morwen tilted his head, confused at their actions.

"How many, do you suppose," he spoke, his voice a pleasant whisper over the junkyard's cry,

"have begged for forgiveness? For another chance they didn't deserve?"

"...A-"

He didn't wait for an answer. Pillars of darkness sprouted from the ground, writhing tentacles that consumed the final thugs in an eruption of muffled screams.

Silence settled, broken only by a raven cawing from somewhere within the wreckage. Morwen turned, And once again walked through the Junction as if nothing had happened.

____________

Authors notes:

- Morwen is one of the very few mages who can cast incantationless spells.

- The mercenary's cooperation headquarters is located in the city of Eldoria. Owned by Jaxon Cain Himself.