I wandered through the streets of Ishtara, twirling my new sword in hand and whistling a slow melody while checking my phone.
As I expected, the news about Ishtara was spreading like wildfire around the world.
In just a few days, this place would transform into a mix of tourist destination and reporters’ paradise.
Everyone wanted a piece of the chaos.
Some sought to witness the spectacle with their own eyes, others wanted to investigate the truth, and a few — like me — would be coming here to seize opportunities.
After all, both the High Priest and the Overlord were dead.
While the news of their deaths — and their involvement in this incident — wasn’t known yet, it wouldn’t remain a secret for long.
Soon, everyone would realize the power vacuum left by their absence.
And many would want to seize control of this place.
Because with three Portals located in this region, Kandara was arguably one of the biggest suppliers of otherworldly herbs, mystical materials, and Essence Stones in the world.
Of course, most of the revenue from imported goods went to the Central Monarch since she was the rightful ruler of the region, but those in power here also earned a good fortune.
In fact, the very reason the High Priest and the Overlord committed treason by betraying the Flame Queen and siding with the Syndicate was that they felt their share of the profits wasn’t enough.
They believed they could make much more if Ishtara was solely under their control and they had a monopoly on all three of its Portals.
Fools.
They were utter fools.
By siding with the Syndicate, they had shaken hands with the devil.
They didn’t even consider the consequences of their actions.
They let their greed cloud their judgment, and now, because of that, they were dead.
“Amateurs,” I shook my head.
I mean, if you want to sell your soul, at least negotiate a good price first. These guys practically handed it over for free and even gift-wrapped it.
And all that for what?
A slightly bigger slice of the pie?
An empty promise of a kingdom?
Borrowed wealth and power that was never truly going to be theirs?
Please. Those were all such bad deals. The risk was far greater than the reward.
In this world, Monarchs were like gods.
If you’re going to betray a Monarch and align yourself with a criminal empire, you’d better have an escape plan, a backup plan, and a third plan in case the first two go up in flames — preferably not along with you.
I was about to roll my eyes but quickly stopped myself. One should always respect the dead, no matter how unbelievably foolish they may have been in life.
As I continued to walk toward the outskirts, the streets became progressively narrower.
Even though the whole city was more or less in ruins, the areas near the outskirts looked especially devastated.
Since the houses here were made of scrapped tin, rusted metal, and thin sheets of wood, they hadn’t stood a chance against the beasts that tore through Ishtara.
Most of this part of the city was entirely flattened, everything collapsed into twisted heaps of rubble.
The pavement was painted red with the blood of the citizens, gray flakes of ash fell through the sky like snow, and dead bodies — both monsters and humans alike — littered the streets.
Some were mangled beyond recognition, torn apart by claws and fangs, while others lay eerily intact as if they’d simply died where they stood.
The air smelled like death, thick and suffocating, mixed with the acrid sting of smoke.
Not everyone was dead, however.
In fact, because of how fast the Academy reacted to the situation, the death toll was significantly lower than what it should’ve been.
Still, it was a tragedy. Most of the people who died were resin addicts who couldn’t get to safety in time.
I spotted some survivors as I passed.
Most of them were moving aimlessly like ghosts — silent, hollow-eyed, and wrapped in layers of dust and grief.
Some crouched beside the wreckage of their homes, sifting through the debris with trembling hands and searching for anything – anything – that could still be of use.
Others sat motionless on the bloodstained pavement, staring blankly at nothing, too exhausted or numb to react to the devastation around them.
Children clung to their parents, their faces streaked with soot and dried tears, while those who had lost everything knelt beside the bodies of their loved ones and sobbed uncontrollably.
But even here, I could see the second-year Cadets rushing around and helping whomever they could, their uniforms dirtied and torn already.
Almost the entire second-year batch — around five to six hundred Cadets — had been deployed to Ishtara, and they all had been doing their jobs perfectly.
They had put out the spreading fire and set up relief camps wherever the ground was stable.
Some were distributing water and food rations to the survivors, while healers tended to the injured despite being exhausted themselves.
Others worked to clear the roads, hauling aside debris and collapsed beams to carve out safe paths through the ruins.
A few Cadets were assigned to corpse disposal — probably the worst task of them all. They moved the bodies into piles, separating humans from monsters.
Some of them dug trenches, sweat mixing with the grime on their faces as they prepared graves for those who wouldn’t get a proper burial.
I passed them by without a word, stepping over the bloodstained rubble, whistling that same solemn tune to myself.
Soon, I crossed the city gates and left Ishtara behind.
The outskirts were just as I remembered — vast, desolate, and barely a hint of vegetation anywhere.
A few hours ago, after the second-years secured the city, our mission had officially ended.
Since our work here was done, we were called back.
I’d received a message instructing me to rendezvous outside the city, right where we had been dropped off at the start of our mission.
A jet would be waiting there, ready to take us back to the Academy.
So, that was where I was headed.
Barely five minutes after reaching the outskirts, I spotted the jet. Sleek and black, it stood out against the barren wasteland.
My teammates were already there, gathered near the aircraft, looking mentally drained and physically exhausted.
Ironically, Alexia was the first to notice me. She must still have been using the passive effect of the senses enhancement Card I had given her.
She was talking with Kang when her head suddenly snapped in my direction, and a bright smile bloomed across her doll-like face.
In a blink, she dashed toward me and invaded my personal space before I could protest.
“Lord Samael!” she exclaimed, wrapping herself around my arm like a cat who had decided I was its new favorite toy. “So glad you’re not dead!”
I scowled, trying to shake her off but to no avail. “Why would I be dead?”
She tilted her head.
“Well, you reported evidence of the High Priest colluding with the Overlord. You had to have broken into his church to do that. Then, after your report, you went offline. No one heard anything from you. We even tried to call you, but your communicator was off.” She shrugged. “So forgive us for assuming the High Priest found you and had you killed.”
I resisted the urge to facepalm. “My phone died. Also, I was busy helping with the evacuation and fighting an apocalyptic horde of monsters. You know, the usual.”
Her lips quirked. “Sounds like a busy day.”
I narrowed my eyes at her.
“And what about you?” I gestured toward the ruined city behind us. “You seem awfully cheerful despite the fact that our first mission was a total disaster.”
Alexia sucked in a sharp breath. “I mean, we still didn’t fail. If we hadn’t uncovered the truth in time, the destruction could have been much worse.”
I shrugged. “Fair point. We did what we could.”
She nodded. “Exactly. I just hope Mikey realizes that too.”
She pointed toward the distance with her chin, where Michael stood talking to Lily. Even from here, he looked far more miserable than usual.
“What happened to him?” I asked.
“He said he couldn’t save a little girl in time. And he almost died. Thankfully, reinforcements arrived before that.”
“I see,” I murmured.
Then, Alexia’s hand brushed against the greatsword in my grasp, and her sightless gray eyes practically sparkled. “Ooh. What’s that?”
I glanced down at Aurieth as if only now remembering I was holding it. “Ah, this? It’s just an artifact I found in a shop back in Ishtara.”
“Oh?” Her eyebrows arched with interest.
I nodded and started lying through my teeth. “There was this old man. He asked me a question. I answered, and he was so impressed by my intelligence that he gave me this sword.”
She looked at me with stars in her eyes. “Wow! Like in those fantasy stories where the hero stumbles into a dusty old shop and gets a legendary weapon from a retired master blacksmith! So cool! What was the question?”
I smirked. “He asked if I had money.”
Alexia blinked. Then smacked my arm. “You bought it?! You made it sound like some grand trial of wisdom!”
I chuckled. “It was wisdom. I had enough money to buy it, so I did.”
She huffed and crossed her arms. “That doesn’t count.”
“Sure it does,” I said, lazily twirling Aurieth in my grip. “Besides, I got it at a discount. The guy was on his deathbed and really wanted it off his hands.”
Her eyes narrowed. “That… sounds suspiciously like you robbed a dying old man.”
I laughed. “Something like that.”
Alexia gasped in mock outrage, but before she could utter another word, the jet’s doors slid open, and a ramp extended down to the ground before us.
It was time to go home.