The Martial Unity

As Rui and Amare drew closer and closer to the Gu, they could almost feel the atmosphere grow darker. It was palpable.

One could learn a lot about a Sage-level powerhouse from its domain of influence. The Sekigahara Confederate’s domain of influence was characterized by war.

The Britannian Empire’s domain of influence was characterized by subservient colonies.

The Republic of Gorteau’s domain of influence was characterized by economic impoverishment.

The Kandrian Empire’s domain of influence was characterized by prosperity and trade.

It reflected how a Sage-level powerhouse deployed its influence and power on its surroundings. The Gu’s domain of influence was unlike anything Rui had ever seen before. “…Where are the people?” Rui murmured as he walked around an empty village. “They’re all gone,” Amare whispered with an unsettled tone.

Decrepit old huts, ill-maintained paths, and a dark sense of emptiness. “Even the beasts and monsters are avoiding this place entirely due to the absolute lack of any human presence,” Rui muttered under his breath.

This wasn’t their first time coming across the remains of a village. The Beast Incursion had killed countless people who lived in such villages, reducing them to rubble. The difference was that there were corpses of people that indicated that they even existed in the first place.

That wasn’t all. “This village is intact,” Rui noted. “Which it means it wasn’t run over by the beasts and monsters, presumably because they didn’t detect any human presence. That means the people of this village were gone even before the Beast Incursion began.”

What was strange was that this wasn’t the only village of this sort they had run into. As they traveled to the Gu, they ran into village after village where people were simply missing.

It was chilling.

Such was the Gu’s domain of influence. It wasn’t characterized by suffering, pain, and misery.

No.

It was characterized by a chilling silence.

Emptiness.

Not only was it deeply disturbing, it also deprive Rui and Amare a place to rest causing them, or at least Amare, to grow more tired as they traveled. And yet, the closer they got, the louder the silence grew.

Empty settlements.

Empty villages.

Even empty towns.

That wasn’t all. “How can this be…?” Amare’s tone quivered with a hint of horror as her gaze swept across the cityscape of an entire kingdom.

An empty kingdom.

A humble and densely packed kingdom that clearly thrived with people at some point.

It had its own culture.

He could tell from the distinct architectural style and the unique structure of buildings that this was a kingdom that distinguished itself and prided its culture. It spoke to the ethos of the nation and the kind of people that inhabited it.

These were once people who had carved out their own way of life.

And now?

“…They’re gone.” Rui narrowed his eyes. “Millions of people residing in this kingdom. All disappeared.”

He highly doubted they all decided to move up and migrate to another place.

What he found to be truly eerie was that while the infrastructure was decrepit and crumbling, there were no signs of destruction.

If a Martial force had dragged every last living person out of the nation with force, it would have left many signs of resistance and destruction.

The battles between the Martial Artists would have undoubtedly caused a lot of damage. And yet…

“I can’t detect even the mildest trace of conflict.”

Amare nodded with a disturbed tone. “Come on,” Rui leaped off the fort wall bordering the kingdom, “let’s go investigate.”

With a kingdom as big as this, he ought to have been able to get better clues into the nature of this strange disappearance.

The two of them cautiously traversed the kingdom.

While Amare simply took in the somber sights with a heavy heart, Rui swept his scrutinizing gaze as his analytical eyes captured all the information that he needed.

“A Martial agrarian economy.”

A simple deduction based on the purpose of much of the infrastructure. There were massive silos and warehouses that emitted strange odors line across the entirety of the small kingdom.

This was infrastructure for agriculture. On the outer ends of the small kingdoms were vast empty fields.

Rui estimated that they were once abundant with crops that would be harvested, stored, and processed. The other major type of civil structure was Martial training pavilions. The sheer number of them indicated a thriving local Martial community with many aspiring Martial Artists. “Such a kingdom simply disappeared without a single trace?” Rui narrowed his eyes. “Voluntary movement is inconceivable for such a large number of people across countless different settlements, villages, and kingdoms. That must mean involuntary displacement. That too, one without any resistance.”

It suggested that an overwhelming Martial power was deployed to take them all by force.

“But this was a Master-level kingdom,” Rui muttered.

“How do you know how strong the kingdom was?”

“That…” Rui pointed to a large structure visible even in the distance, rising above other structures. “That is a Master-level training chamber.”

“…How do you know it’s Martial? It could be any ordinary large structure,” she murmured with a hint of confusion. “If it was used for commercial purposes or was an agricultural warehouse, it wouldn’t be located so far away from both the fields and the population centers,” Rui replied with a knowing tone. “This kind of civil planning is only used for Martial training structures where Martial Artists exert their full power. Keeping it far away from agriculture and people is simply a common measure of caution.”

In the Kandrian Empire, the entirety of the north of the Kandrian Empire, Daracol, was reserved exclusively for Martial Artists to keep it as far as possible from the people. “This nation had Martial Masters, and yet it was overcome with such overwhelming power that there wasn’t even the slightest trace of resistance.”

This narrowed down the suspects to what they had instinctively known in their hearts.

“This is the work of a Sage-level powerhouse.”

It was the work of the Gu.