Chapter 206: Three Peoples

Chapter 206: Three Peoples

A few days ago, the delegation that had emerged from the Anya Defense Line passed by Bran who was hidden in the shadows. Although he knew the team faced almost certain death, he chose to watch coldly, without intervening.

Bran had always believed: Man gets pushed, horse gets ridden. When you have no one to rely on, you’ll find a way to survive just to stay alive. Isn’t that what survival is all about? Just like beasts running on the grasslands, or the wild grass; struggling, guided by fate. Failure? Just destiny.

At that moment, he and Huahua squatted by an anthill beside the road, watching the ants scurry about in their busy work. Occasionally, he reached out to poke at them. Though it was a main road leading to the Royal Capital of Anya, travelers and carts were scarce. After all, it was still quite far from the capital, and in these times, few could afford long journeys.

He had stopped because of a magical beast among the ants. A fascinating worker ant, possessing strength far exceeding its peers, yet it worked seamlessly with its fellow ants. They had just finished an impressive battle and were now dragging their prize – a huge green caterpillar – step by step towards their nest. Its behavior captivated Bran; he felt a kinship. Like him, bound by human society’s pull, unable to truly break free. Aware he was just a traveler, aware that the warmth and care weren’t really meant for him, yet unable to stop clinging to the feeling.

After leaving Twinwing City, Bran suddenly lost direction. Being stuck in Northland City for over a year had bored him. Lingering between returning or not, he chose a middle path – taking a detour. Because Danny was still in Northland City, and that Wood guy, and other people and things he cared about.

A carriage, escorted by knights, passed him by and then stopped not far ahead. One knight doubled back and asked loudly, “Where are your kin?”

Bran didn’t respond, just waved his hand dismissively, signaling this busybody to move on. His reaction puzzled the knight, who dismounted and walked around to face Bran, trying to figure out what this child was doing. Ants diligently hauling their spoils home were crushed under his boot.

With a sigh, Bran picked up Huahua and stood to leave. The knight didn’t press further. The boy’s reaction and bearing made it clear the knight was overstepping.

But not everyone understands boundaries. As Bran walked past the halted carriage, it slowly started moving to match his pace. Wanting peace, Bran stopped and gestured for them to go ahead.

They clearly weren’t letting him go. A woman’s voice drifted from inside the carriage, “Child, you’d best ride with us. This road is unsafe now, crawling with deserters.”

“Thanks, no need.”

His curt refusal annoyed her, turning her tone sharper. “As knights, we can’t just leave you in danger.”

“Knights inside a carriage?” Bran asked with a hint of mockery.

The woman was clearly stung into silence. A man’s voice intervened, smoothening the mood, “Forgive our asking, but where are you headed?”

“The Royal Capital.”

“We’re headed the same way. If you don’t mind, perhaps join us inside? We could share tales from the road.” The man extended a diplomatic invitation.

Bran refused again, “Thank you. I’m not comfortable getting too close with strangers.”

The man chuckled softly in the carriage, clearly writing Bran off as just a stubborn child. He leaned out, pointing to spare warhorses tied behind the carriage. “You could choose one to ride?”

This time, Bran didn’t refuse. He picked the nearest horse and jumped onto its back. From inside the carriage came the woman’s mutter, “Rude little brat.”

Soon, probably bored, the woman climbed out of the carriage, jumping onto one of the horses and sidled up next to Bran. She started small talk, “What brings you to the Royal Capital?”

“Just to look around. Heard many Hell Knights live there.”

“Want to join the mighty Hell Knights?” Puffing her chest with conjecture and pride, she seemed keen on showing Bran she was one of them.

Unfortunately, Bran ignored her display of pride. He answered, his tone teasing, stating a fact: “Compared to the Warriors of the Northlands and the Dragon Riders on the islands, you lot aren’t strong. Judging by average individual strength, you are the weakest.”

“Nonsense!” The woman’s voice was sharp, “What does a brat like you know? How can anyone from Anya Kingdom speak well of outsiders?”

Unhurried, Bran stated another fact, “I’m a Northlander.”

The words made her roar with laughter, but her laughter gradually weakened in the face of Bran’s silence. She looked at Bran suspiciously now. Yet beneath his hood, his face seemed obscured by Mist, unreadable.

Only then did she notice Bran’s peculiar accent. Waryness stirred. With caution and disbelief, she asked, “Really?”

Bran nodded and continued, seemingly to himself, “Know what’s most interesting about us three?”

The woman reflexively asked, “What?”

“It’s likely we share the same origins. Language, writing – though there are differences, we share many common points. Further, both the Northlanders’ settlements and the Dragon Riders’ are tied to Mana. I just need to confirm yours is too.”

The woman blinked, her face adopting a look of pure, innocent idiocy.

A question came from inside the carriage, “And then? I mean, if you have a discovery?”

Bran gave a dry laugh. “Heh. Heh. If we truly share origins, how did we end up here? When and how did we split? Lots of questions to guess at, answers we could try to find.”

“You remind me of a Scholar.”

“One has said that before. But I’m not one of them.”

The woman seemed to recover, muttering, “Boring. None of that makes us stronger.”

“No? Maybe it does. If our ancestors were stronger, have you ever wondered why?”

“Why?” Her eyes sparkled now, filled with curiosity, fixed on Bran.

“Hah, a secret…”

Bran needed evidence for his many theories. This Continent’s culture seemed deeply influenced by the Anya Kingdom. Or rather, influenced by the Hell Knights. Back when he studied in the Castle with Sean, those similar written languages had baffled him. He initially thought external culture had eroded the Northlands, until he got the answer from a Fairy.

The Northlanders hid in the Wasteland, isolated from the world. The Dragon Riders hid on their Archipelago, unable to penetrate the inland. Only the Hell Knights established the Anya Kingdom, exerting profound influence across this Continent.

To be fair, the Anya Kingdom’s economy and culture were vastly more developed than the Northlands’. If not for invasions by the Demon Clan, perhaps Anya could have achieved even more.

And the Scholars, and their City of Wisdom… was there any connection to the three peoples? If the chance arose, he would enter the City of Wisdom, find their oldest archives, examine the writing they recorded with, and perhaps find some clues.