Invincible Blood Sorceror

Chapter 157: Moving up the Mountain slope city

”Sigora,” she said, her voice carrying the warmth of recognition.

”Welcome back to Dewura’tt. It’s been what, two years since the last Council gathering?”

”Nearly three,” Sigora replied with a respectful nod.

”Time passes differently when we are surrounded with family. It’s good to see you again, Mira’sul.”

Mira’sul’s amethyst eyes shifted to Jorghan, and something flickered in her expression—curiosity mixed with careful assessment.

”And you must be Jorghan Sol’vur, the heir who’s caused such... significant ripples recently.”

”That would be me,” Jorghan confirmed, meeting her gaze steadily.

”Though I’d have preferred quieter circumstances for my introduction.”

A slight smile touched Mira’sul’s lips.

”Quiet circumstances rarely forge legends. The stories of your battle have reached even here—carried by travelers, merchants, and even some of our own scouts who witnessed portions of the engagement from a distance.”

Scouts? Why did they send scouts to the desert?

To watch the battle? Jorghan wondered.

Were they anticipating the empire attack on the desert?

Her tone shifted to something more formal. ”On behalf of the Amasurata clan and Clan Head Madayanti, I welcome you to Dewura’tt, Jorghan Sol’vur. Your presence honors us.”

She gestured toward the gateway.

”If you’ll follow me, we’ve prepared accommodations for you both. The Council gathering won’t commence until tomorrow evening; several clan heads have yet to arrive. You’ll have time to rest from your journey and explore the city if you wish.”

They passed through the gateway, and Jorghan felt a subtle tingle across his skin—some kind of magical barrier or sensor, he realized, probably screening for threats or recording who entered and exited.

The Amasurata clearly took security seriously.

Beyond the gateway, the city proper unfolded before them.

Up close, Dewura’tt was even more magnificent than it had appeared from the air. The streets were wide, paved with stone that had been polished smooth by countless feet over countless years. Buildings rose on either side, not constructed from separate materials but carved from the mountain, their facades decorated with intricate reliefs depicting historical scenes, mythological creatures, and abstract patterns that seemed to flow and shift when viewed peripherally.

Elves of every description moved through the streets.

The impossibly tall, slender ones were from the forest clans, though what forests they’d originally inhabited were long gone, lost to Empire expansion decades ago. Others showed characteristics Jorghan couldn’t immediately place—subtle differences in ear shape, eye positioning, and skin texture that suggested adaptation to environments he’d never encountered.

And everywhere, the massive beasts moved with surprising grace. The horse-like creatures, Mira’sul called them Dral’thar, pulled carts or carried riders in saddles designed for their enormous proportions. Other creatures served different purposes, some clearly for transport, others for labor, and a few that seemed purely decorative or ceremonial.

”The Amasurata have always maintained the largest variety of bonded beasts,” Mira’sul explained as she led them through the streets.

”One of the advantages of controlling Dewura’tt is the stable environment, the ample space, and the access to resources from multiple terrains. We breed and train creatures that other clans couldn’t sustain.”

They climbed gradually, the streets following the mountain’s natural contours, connected by broad staircases and gently sloping ramps. Water features appeared at regular intervals—fountains, small streams, and pools where elves gathered to rest or socialize. The water source was mysterious until they rounded a corner and Jorghan saw where it originated.

To the west, visible between buildings, a massive waterfall cascaded down the mountain face. But its source was architectural rather than natural: an enormous carved elephant head, easily two hundred feet tall, its trunk raised skyward. Water poured from the trunk in seemingly endless volume, falling into a series of catch basins that distributed it throughout the city via carefully engineered channels.

”The Eternal Spring,” Mira’sul said, noticing Jorghan’s awe.

”Carved by the founding Amasurata clan head over thousands of years ago. The water source is deep within the mountain, an underground river tapped through engineering that combines magic and mundane craft. It’s never run dry, never faltered, providing for this city through every season, every drought, every crisis.”

”It’s incredible,” Jorghan said honestly.

”It’s practical,” Mira’sul corrected with a slight smile.

”Beauty that serves purpose, the Amasurata philosophy in architectural form.”

She said that with a prideful tone.

They continued climbing until they reached a building that seemed to grow from the mountainside organically. It was massive, seven stories tall, with balconies overlooking both the city below and the abyss beyond. The entrance was marked by pillars carved with protective runes, and guards flanked the doorway with the same alert but non-threatening posture Jorghan had seen at the main gateway.

”The Highrest Quarter,” Mira’sul announced.

”Where visiting clan heads and their companions are housed during Council gatherings. You’ll find your accommodations more than adequate: private quarters, bathing facilities, meal services, anything you might need during your stay.”

She led them inside, through a lobby decorated with murals depicting the history of the twelve on the walls, and Jorghan noticed with some surprise that a section of wall remained blank.

They ascended several flights of stairs; the building lacked the magical lifts Jorghan had encountered in some human structures, instead maintaining a more traditional approach that somehow felt appropriate for the ancient setting.

Jorghan thought that they could have just flown up, but Sigora was giving him a side eye every time he had a slightly annoyed gesture with his body.

Finally, Mira’sul stopped before a set of double doors carved with intricate forest scenes.

”Your quarters, Sigora. As always, we’ve provided the spacious accommodations you prefer.”

She turned to another door across the hall, this one decorated with abstract patterns.

”And for you, Jorghan Sol’vur, quarters befitting the heir to a great bloodline. If anything is unsatisfactory, please inform the staff.”

”I’m sure it will be perfect,” Jorghan said.

”The Council convenes tomorrow at sunset in the hall. Until then, you’re free to explore the city, rest, or avail yourselves of any amenities Dewura’tt offers.”

Mira’sul inclined her head respectfully. ”If you need anything, the staff here will assist you. Welcome again to the City on the Edge.”

She departed with the same synchronized grace she’d arrived with, leaving Jorghan and Sigora alone in the hallway.