City of Sin

A Meaningless Conflict

It was easy to tell from the strength of the guard that this Mensa caravan contained offerings. Of course, that didn’t mean every carriage contained offerings within. Most of them were in fact just regular supplies and treasures from the family planes. It was just that the offerings were the most valuable of all.

Although there were quite a few large trade hubs in other parts of the country, most nobles of Faust chose to conduct their trade within the city even if the transportation costs were high. It was partly to ensure their home remained prosperous, but it was also for a public display of wealth.

The frequency and scale of these supply teams was another indicator of a family’s prosperity. The Mensas sent such a supply team towards Faust every quarter, while the Orleans Family and the Wellinburgs received a much larger caravan every month. On the other hand, Gaton had only called in two caravans during his three years in Faust.

With quite some time having passed since Richard first pushed the Mensas down to the seventh level, their main castle had been more or less restored. Although some of the greenery and other superficial sectors of the island had shrunk, they looked no different from before. It had been a great humiliation to Duke Mensa at the time, but with recent events in the Land of Dusk all of Faust’s attention had been pulled away.

Most discussions were currently centred around just why the Sword Saint had entered the Land of Dusk, and why the Millennial Empire had called in help from Klandor despite not lacking powerful legends themselves. This also bled into a conversation around Marshal Rundstedt, who was currently in Faust being interrogated for days on end. There were various conflicting viewpoints amongst the nobility, causing the court to push back its decision time and time again.

While high society was busier than ever, almost as though all aristocrats had been imbued with double their normal energy, the Mensas couldn’t be happier that their shame had been forgotten. The only unpleasant thing was that Richard still hadn’t died despite years spent in the Land of Dusk, but they knew that so much as raising a finger against him would bring down the entirety of Emperor Philip’s wrath right now.

The caravan quickly reached Miracle Peak, standing right before the awe-inspiring mountain path. A squadron of knights started trotting over to check— the Sacred Alliance was currently on high alert— but to a family of the floating islands that was merely a formality.

Just as the leading knights greeted the incoming knights, a clatter of hooves rang out from up the path as a group of teenagers rode down on horses. They were laughing as they frolicked around, the boys filled with youthful energy as they tried to show off their horsemanship to the girls.

“This is a Mensa caravan!” the head knight shouted as the youths approached, “Make way!”

The knight’s shout spread like thunder, startling quite a few horses into almost throwing off their riders. The youths were instantly provoked, and one of them shouted out, “Are the Mensas so great that even a knight can run his mouth off to a noble? Do you lot own the Eternal Plains?!”

This immediately caused a clamour of agreement amongst the youths, who all started to reprimand the knight for his lack of manners.

The head knight was only a middling captain in the Mensa army, not even considered a real officer, but he possessed unmatched arrogance because of his backing. Subordinates had this strange way of being more drunk on their masters’ power than the masters themselves. After a quick scan across the crowd, he concluded that there were no specifically powerful families here and immediately drew his sword, “You dare to stop a Mensa caravan? Do you even know who’s sitting inside the carriage?”

“Who cares?” someone shouted back, “If the Mensas were so great, why did their island drop?”

The group burst out laughing, only furthering the man’s fury. The knight immediately charged forward in his rage, only to be met by one of the older youths in battle. However, he only sneered as he struck away the boy’s sword with one stroke, lifting his leg and kicking him off his horse.

The youth wasn’t particularly talented in combat, and young as he was, he was immediately sent flying. Blood traced an arc in the air as a loud thud sounded on the stone path, alongside some weak groans as the youth started to shake with pain.

A knight that qualified to be a part of a caravan escorting offerings would clearly be much better in combat than a minor noble. However, the man’s actions completely provoked the party of youths; all of them pulled their swords out, shouting in rage.

They weren’t just being hot-blooded either. With royal knights nearby as well as a patrol team heading over from afar, they could rest assured that the Mensas wouldn’t dare kill anyone in this situation. And as it stood, the Mensas had been borderline crippled by Gaton and Richard; they weren’t nearly as fearsome as they once were.

The Mensa knight was immediately faced with a quandary. He had only been trying to threaten them with his blade, but in the heat of the moment he had injured the young noble. Even though the injured youth didn’t amount to much, hurting a noble was still a grave crime.

Thankfully, the caravan came to a stop and a man and woman walked out of the two decorated carriages. They both looked to be in their early thirties, with beautiful clothing

The supply team finally came to a stop. A male and a female came down from the two carriages. They were both just over thirty, gorgeously dressed, indifferent and arrogant.

The man just snorted at the sight in front of him, his mage robes fluttering as he rose up into the sky, “I’m Jaaron Mensa. Make way now, or I’ll take care of you before having a talk with your parents.”

The youths immediately fell back, fear filling their faces. Jaaron was a noted talent in the Mensa Family, having become a grand mage before the age of thirty. It was one thing to argue with a mere knight, but no good end would come of fighting a Mensa that was also a grand mage. So long as he had the right excuse, he could just kill them all with barely any repercussions.

However, a gentle voice immediately rang out from behind the youths, “Is this how you treat my friends, Jaaron?”

Jaaron’s eyes immediately went wide, “Miss Wendy?!”