The separatists were gone from the square, yet the lingering effects of the blue light still clung to the crowd. When their vision finally cleared, cheers erupted.
Banners reading "Destroy the separatists" were held high, gripped tightly by hands still trembling with euphoria.
The knight sheathed his silver sword once more. He then raised his hand high and shouted loudly,
"Long live Eldoria!"
The cry was immediately met with a roar from the crowd. Cheers surged again, louder than before, until the square turned into a sea of commotion.
"Long live Eldoria! Long live Eldoria!"
"Kill the separatists!"
Hastora could only stand silently watching the crowd. He stepped back little by little to move away from the throng, then stopped right beneath a streetlamp.
He had never seen a sight like this before; it truly made him want to get away from this place as quickly as possible.
However, his curiosity nagged at him, making him want to stay here a little longer to find out what was really happening in this place.
Amidst the roar of the crowd, the blond knight lowered his hand and walked toward the wooden platform standing in the middle of the square.
His steps were steady and so dignified; just by looking at him, Hastora knew he was no ordinary person.
Once on the platform, the knight extended his hand toward the lifeless bodies. Blue energy coiled around his palm, forming a chain-shaped flame.
The chain wrapped around the corpses. With a single flick of his wrist, searing heat erupted, reducing them to ash in an instant.
The crowd's roar vanished in an instant. They covered their mouths and felt amazed at what the knight had just done, including Hastora.
'So that is magic,' Hastora thought. 'The second spell.'
He was truly both shocked and amazed; what the knight had done was truly remarkable. He was certain that the knight must still possess several other great spells that had not yet been shown to the people.
"Everyone!" shouted the knight.
"First, let me introduce myself. My name is Lancelot Ravencourt. I am the new general of the Eldorian kingdom's military forces. A few months ago, one of the regions in this kingdom—Redmere, as they call it—launched a rebellion, aiming to secede from this kingdom"
"Although not everyone there agreed, most of them did. Many young people, both men and women, joined the separatist group"
"This caused the situation in Redmere to become very chaotic; many innocent people were injured and killed by them simply because they did not agree with their cause"
"Therefore, we have deployed military forces to hunt them down while also protecting the people there. We will also strive to resolve this as soon as possible and capture the mastermind behind these events"
Lancelot raised his hand to the sky. Then a large banner unfurled from above the platform, displaying the face of a brown-haired man with a thick mustache.
He continued,
"And if any of you see someone who resembles the face on this banner," Lancelot's voice echoed across the square,
"arrest him—or immediately report to the Eldorian Kingdom Magistrate."
He paused for a moment.
"Every report proven to be true will be rewarded with 10,000 Eldorian Crowns."
Lancelot snapped his fingers, and the large banner disappeared instantly.
"We will post his picture along the streets tomorrow morning. For now, we cannot explain who the man on the banner is due to lack of time; we must carry out another mission now, so we will attach a description of him to the picture—you can see it tomorrow"
"Well then, goodbye."
He stepped down from the wooden platform, then left the square along with the other soldiers.
The atmosphere in the square changed instantly after Lancelot left. The people looked pleased with what Lancelot had just said:
"Did he just say 10,000 Eldorian Crowns? Crazy! That's truly an incredible amount!"
"We must hunt down the man on the banner no matter what!"
"I'm getting excited!"
After witnessing what had just happened, Hastora seemed to understand what was really going on here. The case was just like what had happened in the region where Hastora used to live.
Rebellion. Hastora had seen it before. Dissatisfaction, resentment, and the slow buildup of hatred that eventually exploded into violence.
And the knight's purpose in executing the separatists in public was to inform the people that there would be a manhunt tomorrow—it was truly insane.
Not only that, Hastora also learned some other important information. First, the Eldorian Crown is the currency used in this kingdom. And second, he was now in a kingdom called Eldoria.
After the crowd began to disperse, Hastora remained standing beneath the streetlamp. This time, however, it was not amazement that filled his mind—but caution.
Cheers about the ten-thousand-Crown reward could be heard everywhere. People began moving with gleaming eyes, as if the face on the banner had turned into a walking bag of gold.
And that made Hastora realize one disturbing thing.
'This world... It's truly dangerous.'
He lowered his head slightly, partially hiding his face in the shadow of the lamppost. He had just realized that he had no home and no identity. He had transmigrated into this world suddenly; he did not even know the true identity of this body.
Footsteps approached.
"Hey, you."
Hastora tensed up.
A middle-aged man in city guard attire stood not far from him. His gaze was sharp, full of scrutiny.
"Where are you from?" the man asked curtly.
Hastora was silent for a split second. Too long.
Several pairs of eyes began to glance their way.
"I..." Hastora opened his mouth, then closed it again.
He realized.
The wrong answer in this world could end at the same execution stake.
"I just arrived today," he finally said. "From the outer regions."
The guard narrowed his eyes.
"Which outer region?"
Hastora did not know. And that was the problem.
Before the situation worsened, another voice interrupted.
"That's enough, he's just a newcomer."
Another man walked past with a small laugh. "Just look at his face. He can't possibly be a fugitive."
The guard clicked his tongue softly, then stepped back.
"Be careful. In these times, strangers often bring trouble."
After they left, Hastora let out a slow breath.
It was only now that he truly realized—
in this world, he had no name, no home, and no protection.
And that reality was far more dangerous than the separatists who had just been executed.