After spending hours at the ancient War Ground of the Gods, King Ragnar turned to Kent. “We’ve seen enough for today. It’s time to leave.”
Kent nodded, feeling both relieved and curious. His mind still buzzed with thoughts of the War Ground, but there were other matters that required his attention.
They ascended the steps of the golden throne, and with a swift command from Kent, the throne surged into the air, heading toward the nearest teleportation point.
As they soared through the sky, passing over the desolate landscapes of the southern side of 7th realm, Ragnar turned to Kent. “There’s something you must take care of before returning to the Frost Nation.”
“Dead Island City. You won it from the Doom family, but you haven’t set foot there since. It’s time you visit the city you now rule.” Ragnar said while staring at horizon.
Kent frowned. He had nearly forgotten about the city. In truth, he had been so focused on his trials and cultivation that Dead Island City had been little more than an afterthought. “You’re right, Uncle.” Kent said, his voice thoughtful. “I’ve been meaning to visit it, but with everything else going on…”
Ragnar chuckled. “There’s always something else going on. But you’re a City Lord now. It’s time to take control of what’s yours.”
Kent agreed, curiosity beginning to stir in his mind. What kind of place was Dead Island City? Why had it been abandoned by the Doom family, and what kind of people lived there now? He was eager to find out.
Enjoy new stories from My Virtual Library Empire
They changed their course, heading toward the Doom Nation using a series of teleportation gates.
After crossing the last teleportation gate in Doom nation, Ragnar said, “There’s no teleportation gate in Dead Island City. It’s isolated. We’ll have to travel by throne and need to cross the Northern Sunken Desert.”
Kent nodded, and soon enough, they crossed into the Doom Nation, riding on the golden throne across a desolate, sunken desert that stretched for hundreds of miles. The land was barren, the ground cracked and dry, with deep concave depressions that gave the desert its name—the Northern Sunken Desert.
“The Dead Island City is beyond this desert,” Ragnar explained. “It’s far from civilization, cut off by the desert on one side and the sea on the other.”
Kent peered out across the wasteland, his brows furrowed in thought. “How do people survive here? There’s no sign of life for miles.”
Ragnar’s expression darkened. “That’s what you’ll need to find out. In the past, there was a big river here and people survived on water herb business. But after the river dried, many left this place. Also, this place has always been a mystery, even to the Doom family. No one knows why the river dried suddenly without proper cause.” Ragnar explained in a curious tone.
As the sun began to set, casting an orange glow over the barren land, they reached the outskirts of Dead Island City.
Kent’s first impression was one of disbelief. The so-called ‘city’ was little more than a village—small, ramshackle houses made of stone and wood, clustered together as if seeking shelter from the harsh environment. It seemed impossibly remote, like a forgotten relic from another age.
“Is this it?” Kent asked, his voice incredulous.
Ragnar nodded. “This is Dead Island City. Or what’s left of it.”
Kent dismounted from the throne, his boots sinking slightly into the cracked, dry earth as he walked toward the village. The air was hot, almost suffocating, and the land beneath his feet seemed to radiate heat.
As he traveled deeper into the village, he noticed that the people who lived here were different—there were very few of them, less than ten thousand, and many wore ragged clothes, some covered only in animal skins.
The men and women were broad, their bodies muscular and strong, far more so than any ordinary humans Kent had encountered. Yet their faces bore the weight of hardship and isolation.
“What happened here?” Kent muttered under his breath, scanning the villagers who eyed him warily.
As he walked through the dusty streets, observing the cracked walls of the houses and the emaciated livestock, an elderly man came rushing toward him, followed by a large pig. The man was bent with age, but his eyes were sharp, and he carried himself with dignity despite his humble appearance.
“My Lord!” the man called out, his voice quivering with both respect and fear. He stopped before Kent and Ragnar, bowing deeply. “I am the city head. I welcome you both to Dead Island City.”
Kent regarded the elderly man with curiosity, his gaze briefly shifting to the large pig that stood by his side. “Is that your… pet?” Kent asked, raising an eyebrow.
The city head chuckled softly. “Indeed, my lord. Almost every adult in our city keeps a hog as a companion. They are useful animals in these parts.”
King Ragnar glanced around, his sharp eyes taking in the state of the village. “The Doom family has transferred ownership of this place to the young man beside me. From now on, you are all answerable to him.” Ragnar said while walking through the villages
The city head nodded solemnly. “Yes, my lord. May God of Life bestow good days to my city. The Doom family abandoned us long ago. We’ve been living in isolation ever since, barely surviving off what little we can gather from the desert and the surrounding lands.”
Kent’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you stay here? This place is… desolate. You could leave, find a better life somewhere else.”
The city head sighed, his face filled with a mixture of sadness and determination. “Our ancestors were born here, my lord. They left a rule—that their descendants must remain in this place, no matter the hardships. It is a custom we follow out of respect for them.”
Kent felt suspecious as he listened. There was something more to this. These people were strong, physically capable, and yet they lived in a place that was seemingly abandoned and forgotten. There had to be a deeper reason for their isolation.
“That’s… noble,” Kent said, though suspicion flickered in his mind. “But there’s something strange about this city. Why are all of you so strong? Your physiques are far more robust than those of ordinary humans.”
The city head shifted uncomfortably, but before he could answer, a commotion arose behind them. The villagers were gathering, their voices raised in alarm. A group of men approached, their faces grim.
“My lord!” one of them called out. “Please, you must help us. The stunted beastmen have attacked again!”
Kent frowned, turning to the city head. “Beastmen? What are they talking about?”
–
*Thank-You for Support!
