Pillar of Yita

Before the celebration even begins, people are already drinking freely, the stifling atmosphere of recent days seemingly swept away.

Most of those boasting loudly are the explorers among the Invokers, adventurers dressed variously, hailing from many different regions. Dwarfs and Elves were rarely seen in this area in the past, but the Invokers have brought about a different change.

There are even tall half-Giant descendants, standing over two meters tall, towering over the crowd, silently holding a helmet while discussing with the blacksmith in the shop.

Additionally, farmers and farmwives from the surrounding areas have poured in, all donned in new, thick skirts and wearing flamboyant hats, adding a bit of festive atmosphere. Natives gathered together, talking amongst themselves, their voices buzzing, only occasionally pierced by the sharp whistle of the City Defense Force, cutting through the crowd like a sharp sword.

That’s when people finally gave way to form a path.

Fang Hong and Hilveld turned back to watch this scene; previously, they walked quietly together, without speaking to each other, yet seemingly able to sense each other’s thoughts. Miss Tata sat on her knight’s shoulders, holding a candy—a gift from Fang Hong.

A cavalry appeared on the street, passing through the crowd.

”Look at the feathers on their shoulders,” Hilveld suddenly said softly to him.

”What are they?” Fang Hong asked.

”They are the trusted aides of the Phoenix Family, those are Fire Feather Bird feathers.”

The feathers are long and vibrant, colored fiery red, like a burst of flames.

The Fire Feather Bird is a Phoenix Descendant, but the Modkaesar Family certainly can’t use real Phoenix Feathers for decoration—even though there are real Phoenixes in Eteliria.

”Is there anyone from the Phoenix Family in this team?” Fang Hong asked.

He was thinking of the heir of the Phoenix Family, named Enan, the master of Feyos.

But he is probably the only member of the Phoenix Family that Fang Hong has heard of, he is somewhat interested in him, yet people of the Phoenix Family are not someone that Invokers like him could easily meet. During these days in Dulun, he hadn’t even seen Miss Maid named Feyos for a second time.

Hilveld nodded.

Then a carriage passed through the crowd, the long street fell silent, not a sound was heard.

Fang Hong couldn’t help but look up at the Phoenix Emblem on the Inner City Gate, and only then felt the dignity and status of this land and its people. Among them, only a few Invokers chirped noisily a few times, but were caught by the guards.

Fortunately, their identity is special, the guards didn’t make things difficult, they were released after the carriage passed.

The Invokers can’t be too reckless either, after all, there is the ”Stargate Declaration” and the Super Competitive League to restrain them, so they have maintained this half-parting, half-closing relationship with the natives for decades.

”Who passed by?”

Hilveld couldn’t help but chuckle.

Fang Hong was stunned for a moment, then realized he asked a silly question; how could Hilveld know?

After the City Defense Force passed, everything returned to normal, though Fang Hong saw those Invokers who were caught, being released, sneakily enter a nearby alley.

He curiously glanced at them, noticed, and got glared at, gestured with a hand to mind his business. Fang Hong was taken aback, thinking these people are truly arrogant, have just been dealt with, and now they are pulling this stunt again.

However, he is not afraid of trouble himself, why would he be frightened by them? He raised his right hand, thumb down, and gestured back at them.

As a result, it turned out that ten or so people suddenly surged out of that alley, aggressively looking to cause him trouble. Fang Hong was startled, though he is fearless, he isn’t foolish.

These people’s level is unknown, they may not be opponents, but fighting in the city would probably land him in the City Defense Force’s jail sipping tea. Realizing it’s not worth it, he hastily grabbed Hilveld’s hand and ran, escaping into another street.

”Lord Captain, you’ve caused trouble again.” Hilveld running alongside, amused: ”Miss Atira will probably be angry if she finds out.”

”You saw it,” Fang Hong protested helplessly: ”They were the ones who provoked me first.”

”Miss Atira doesn’t care about that.”

”Then you won’t tell her, right?”

Miss Fox giggled: ”Sorry, I will.”

Fang Hong heard it and his face went dark.

Not far away, behind a second-floor window, a pair of heterochromatic eyes were watching the scene through frost-coated glass.

”Kids...” Odin watched for a while, shook his head, then turned back. Before him sat two knights, one old and one young. The elderly knight wore a ceremonial outfit, carrying a Knight Sword, over forty, his expression somewhat hollow, like he’s yet to recover from a severe injury.

The young one was about his age, with a wound extending from his cheek to his chin, not deep, slightly scabbed, likely won’t leave a scar, which counts as a fortunate thing.

He did not sit in the main seat.

On the main seat was an even more stern man, temples gray, wearing a silk robe, with the Praetor’s staff set aside, bearing typical Fjord features, stern and cold, like a silent cliff—those long-standing cliffs stood in the fjord, amidst the fierce winds, chiseled and carved.

Odin yawned.

The room slightly quiet, charcoal cracking in the fireplace.

The elder knight’s voice was hoarse, like a rasp on sandpaper: ”I’m certain it’s that man,” he said slowly but firmly: ”His name is Bakins, I saw him at Song of the Canyon Bay once, back then he was under Mawei, he’s a die-hard loyalist—”