Chapter Eleven: Dynah City

Daina City.

Massive stone walls towered over the city, armored soldiers with long spears standing guard atop the battlements. At the city gate, ragged commoners, neatly dressed merchants, carts laden with goods, and hunters dragging the carcasses of monsters all converged from every direction upon this place.

It should have been a scene bustling with life, yet an eerie silence hung in the air. Everyone had turned their heads to stare at a group of mysterious figures approaching from afar.

Clad in strange attire reminiscent of hunters, sporting never-before-seen black hair and black eyes, and exuding an aura of menace fiercer than that of knights, their presence was overwhelming.

“Who are they?”

“I have no idea. Maybe they're from some famous monster hunting party. I heard there’s a new Green Goblin King in the swamps again—perhaps the Count invited them to deal with it.”

“The Green Goblin King?! Should we leave Daina for a while?”

“What’s there to fear? Isn’t that why they’re bringing people in to solve the problem?”

“Still, why do they look so strange? Black hair, black eyes…”

“Maybe they’ve eaten too much black bread.”

The crowd whispered among themselves, curiosity and apprehension written on every face as they discussed the mysterious party. Many were visibly astonished, even frightened, by the strangers’ unusual eyes and hair—like a country farmer who has suddenly come face to face with a dragon.

“Make way, make way!”

At that moment, two rows of silver-armored knights surged out from the city gate. The crowd scattered to the sides, quickly opening up a passage.

The knights formed a corridor leading up to a carriage parked in front. Two white horses pulled an ornate, luxurious coach, driven by an elderly gentleman in a tailcoat, his hair snow-white, exuding the air of a true gentleman.

He stopped the carriage ten paces from the strangers, turned it toward the gate, then quickly dismounted and strode over.

Placing his right hand on his chest and bowing slightly, he announced, “Welcome, Princess Orina. The Lord Count of Daina has been awaiting your arrival.”

As he spoke, the butler stole glances at the black-haired humans, unable to hide his astonishment at their fierce, alien appearances.

“They really are black…”

In the next instant, those inside the carriage stepped out: three black-haired humans, Princess Orina, and her elven mage.

With a sneer, Aimeya remarked, “The Count welcomes us? With his thousands of knights?”

“Honored Miss Aimeya, the Count genuinely welcomes you all. Your Highness gracing Daina with her presence is our greatest honor.” The butler’s expression was humble and respectful as he opened the carriage door and gestured for them to enter.

“The Count would be delighted if you would join him for lunch, Your Highness. Might we have that honor?”

Orina tugged at Aimeya’s sleeve and whispered, “Aimeya, what should we do?”

Aimeya didn’t answer immediately, but glanced at Qin Le, who gave a slight nod. That settled her nerves.

“What’s there to fear? We have business with him as well.” With a grand gesture, Aimeya strode into the carriage first.

With someone backing her up, there was no reason to be intimidated.

After a few seconds’ hesitation, Orina also climbed aboard the splendid carriage.

“Commander, if fighting breaks out within the city’s complex streets, we’ll be at a disadvantage,” Fishhead warned.

Qin Le shook his head. “The Count has already seen our strength. Any wise man would neither want to, nor dare, attack us.”

Sending those knights back earlier was simply to display their power, making sure the Count understood what he was dealing with.

After reporting the existence of supernatural forces last night, Qin Le had received new directives. The report emphasized that, given the unknowns about this world’s supernatural elements, peaceful contact was advised whenever possible.

There was another reason Qin Le wanted to see the Count: to learn how to gain supernatural powers. At first, he’d hoped to learn from Orina and Aimeya, but after asking, he found their abilities were self-taught, not based on any systematized knowledge—just intuition, really.

Much the same as the mainstream practices in this world, but not formalized at all. So Qin Le’s hopes turned to the Count, a great nobleman who, in a world like this, would surely have mastered such powers.

“Even if they dared attack, I could leave in a second.”

With that, Qin Le boarded the carriage.

Seeing no one else needed to get in, the butler closed the door, took his seat, and flicked the reins. The carriage rolled forward.

As the carriage made its way through the streets, soldiers with firearms surrounded it, knights in front clearing the crowd. Along both sides of the road, dense crowds watched with intense curiosity—the ornate carriage and the mysterious black-haired strangers making a striking tableau.

No one knew exactly what was happening, but it was clear that only someone of high rank would merit such an escort from the Count’s own knights and butler.

Qin Le gazed out the window at the surging masses and the red-brick houses. His first impression: the city stank.

The elf maiden beside him seemed to agree, pinching her nose the whole way, brows tightly furrowed, her expression soured, glaring at everyone around. For an elf, a human city was no better than hell.

After a dozen minutes, the carriage drew up to the city’s center—a towering stone castle, with knights in heavy armor stationed atop its walls.

A moat two meters wide encircled the fortress. The wooden drawbridge dropped slowly, and the carriage rolled inside.

When the carriage halted, the door was opened and the butler, hand on chest, bowed humbly. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have arrived.”

They stepped down to find a man in his thirties, sporting a small mustache, clad in a scarlet robe and high-heeled shoes. Behind him stood a retinue of plainly dressed maids and valets.

This was the Count of Daina, lord of the domain.

With a broad smile, he came forward, hand to chest, bowing elegantly in the noble fashion. “Your Highness Princess Orina, it is an honor to meet you again.”

“I am pleased as well, Count Daina,” Orina replied with a curt nod. Her words were polite, but not her expression.

“And who is this?” The Count’s gaze fell on Qin Le.

Black hair, black eyes—no trace of disguise!

Though he managed to keep a straight face, a storm raged within. He’d thought these were just another set of frauds, pretending to be descendants of the so-called ‘higher humans’—an old swindle among the human races, especially after the infamous incident a century ago when the Emperor of Rof Empire had been deceived into running naked through the streets. Since then, no one believed in ‘higher humans.’

But now, the Count found himself wavering. Here stood a group of black-haired, black-eyed humans with not the slightest flaw in their appearance. Was it possible he’d been wrong? And then, there was the knights’ report: an attack as mysterious as death’s knell, with no visible sign before sudden, inexplicable death.

“Count Daina, aren’t you just being coy?” Orina smiled faintly.

The Count hesitated, then played along, “Would you care to clarify, Your Highness? I’m a bit slow on the uptake.”

“They are my friends, the so-called ancestors that certain nobles always boast about—the higher humans.” Orina’s smile deepened.

The Count’s face froze for a few seconds, then he forced a laugh. “Your Highness, you do love to jest. Lunch is ready; please, let us proceed to the dining room.”

With that, he led the way into the dim interior of the castle.

Qin Le watched the exchange, completely lost, though he sensed the conversation was barbed.

[Aimeya, what did Orina just say?]

Aimeya replied offhandedly, [Orina said you’re their father, but it seems the Count doesn’t want to acknowledge you.]

“???” Qin Le was bewildered. Were all nobles in this world so blunt, insulting each other on first meeting?

…………

The spacious dining hall boasted a long rectangular table laden with a variety of delicious-looking dishes. Qin Le took his seat but ate nothing, while Orina and Aimeya dug in with gusto.

Scouts occupied the four corners, the windows and doors, ever vigilant. The Count, sitting at the head, found this odd but said nothing. More pressing was the turmoil in his mind.

He faced a dilemma: if these truly were the legendary higher humans—humanity’s pride—how should he handle them? In the past, he would have hedged his bets, offering surface support until their true nature was clear.

But now, he seemed to stand in opposition to them. There was still time to switch sides, but if he did and it turned out they were impostors, how could he withstand the wrath of the Crown Prince?

After several rounds of wine, the servants swiftly cleared the table and set a clean white cloth.

The Count dabbed his mouth, then turned to Orina with a look of genuine regret. “Your Highness, first allow me to apologize. It was my negligence that allowed such an incident to befall you in my domain.”

Aimeya sneered. “Some negligence. Your own knights dared to draw blades on the princess.”

“I am truly sorry,” the Count replied, unfazed by the elf’s sarcasm, his expression only more contrite.

“If apologies were enough, why would we need the law?” Aimeya pressed on, showing him no mercy. She’d nearly lost her life and had to use her precious rare pills—the Count, suspected instigator, deserved no kindness. And with someone to back her up, she saw no reason to be polite.

At that moment, the butler placed a delicate wooden chest on the table, opening it to reveal a cache of glittering gold coins.

“A small token of my apology,” the Count said with a slight smile, sliding the box across.

Without hesitation, Aimeya grabbed the chest and hugged it to her chest with astonishing speed.

“We accept your apology.”

“Aimeya, what are you doing?” Orina looked at her companion in disbelief—this wasn’t what they’d agreed on.

Aimeya clung to her treasure. “I’m forgiving him, but only on my own behalf.”

“You’re hopeless, blinded by money.”

“So what? I’ve suffered enough these past days. What’s wrong with taking some compensation?” Aimeya shot back.

Qin Le could wait no longer. He patted Aimeya’s shoulder. “Aimeya, translate for me.”

He had considered using the Mind Link, but the elf clearly didn’t want the Count to know about it.

“Oh.” Aimeya turned to the Count. “Count Daina, my friend wishes to propose a transaction.”

“What kind of transaction?” The Count’s demeanor grew solemn.

“I wish to purchase all the magical and martial knowledge you possess,” Qin Le said, and the elf translated immediately.

The Count hesitated, then shook his head. “As much as I’d like to help, by the laws of the kingdom, I cannot personally sell or disseminate any supernatural knowledge…”

Before he could finish, Ironhammer—a giant of a man—stepped forward, placed a black case on the table, and opened it. Within lay rows of shimmering gold bars, their dazzling luster outshining the coins the butler had brought.

Gold. The Count had never seen gold so beautiful. His own coins looked like mud in comparison.

He quickly composed himself and said, “However, nobles are not restricted by such laws. Supernatural knowledge may be exchanged among them, and as friends of the princess, you are certainly not commoners.”

Aimeya glanced down at her gold coins, finding them suddenly less appealing.