Episode 25: Port City Veyla
A long line had formed at the city's main entrance. People of varied appearances waited their turn after dismounting from carts and horses. Among them stood Charon and Shong.
"Since when did they implement a toll? There was none last time I came," Shong muttered under his breath.
Charon ignored him, chewing herbs while checking his remaining stock. He'd packed a six-month supply before leaving the desert, so he still had plenty. Still, he resolved to check if the city sold herbs—being large, the odds were favorable.
Before entering, Charon wrapped Heukdo in worn cloth and absorbed its energy into his body for storage. He could now manipulate energy flows with relative ease. When divided between his sword and body, he could even sense the blade's location if separated—an intriguing discovery.
Their turn arrived as they pondered. The southern gate guards wore rough expressions and menacing looks, their uniforms distinctly non-Imperial.
'What's happening here?' Shong narrowed his eyes, analyzing the situation.
Burly men in red scarves suddenly shoved through the crowd. "Clear the way! Lord Bembo approaches!"
Before the shout faded, the group stormed past the gates. All wore red scarves and carried brutal weapons. Among them loomed a towering figure Shong faintly recognized.
'Where have I seen him...?'
As Shong scrutinized the man, the guards snapped to attention and opened the gates fully. Realization struck.
'These bastards! Megamon faction lackeys! Bembo's their mid-tier boss. Why are they guarding the gates?'
During Shong's last visit years prior, Megamon had been a minor presence. But Veyla's population boom should have increased Imperial troops—yet the Rob Empire's northern expansion drained southern resources. As a stopgap, the city enlisted local gangs for municipal duties, including toll collection in exchange for tribute. Naturally, these groups grew powerful.
After Megamon's group passed, toll collection resumed. A guard eyed Charon and Shong, scribbling on paper. "Two adults: 100 shillings. Two horses: 40. Total 140."
Another guard jabbed a finger at Charon's sword. "Wait—armed individual. Additional 100 shillings for dangerous weapons. 240 total."
"240 shillings?!" Shong blurted, jaw slack.
"Problem?"
"N-no... Just curious about the pricing," Shong grumbled, reluctantly paying.
The guard snarled, "Covers city upkeep! Cleaning! Facilities! Think we work for free? Cause trouble with that blade, and we handle it! Pay monthly or suffer!"
"Monthly?!" Shong's eyes bulged before he reconsidered—they wouldn't stay long. 'Swallow the loss and move on.'
The guard handed two slips stamped with Rob Empire seals and dates. "Mark your payment deadline."
Charon jerked his chin toward departing Megamon members. "Why do they pass free?"
The guard froze in confusion. Shong wedged between them, laughing nervously. "He meant me! They must've prepaid. Let's go!" He shoved Charon forward.
Past the gate, they sought an inn to stable horses and unpack. The vibrant streets brimmed with shops and stalls hawking fresh seafood, fruits, herbs, and trinkets. Charon scanned for dried Tabenengkool herbs, his keen eyes cataloging every stall's contents.
Stone and brick buildings formed narrow, tangled alleys where shadowy figures lurked—every city has its underbelly. Nearby, a slave wagon passed with Chakran tribespeople among the captives. Children hurled stones at the cage, laughter ringing as Charon's brow furrowed at the sight, old memories stirring.
Spotting an exchange house, Shong whispered, "Let's convert gold. Can't lug it forever." Charon nodded—silver and copper were needed for purchases.
The exchange rate board read 9,800 shillings per gold coin, slightly depressed due to surplus. At the counter, Charon produced a gold piece.
"One gold, please," Shong said. "Five silver, the rest copper."
The clerk passed the coin to an appraiser. Approved, they received their coins and exited swiftly—unnoticed by the bowing receptionist, who urgently whispered to a sharp-eyed boy outside. The boy sprinted away.
The duo climbed uphill to a two-story inn overlooking the harbor—"Path of Waves." Its secluded yet panoramic position made it ideal for temporary stays. Shong tossed coins to a stablehand while Charon glanced downhill before following.
The first floor held a quiet bar with sparse patrons. After paying for their room, they ate a simple meal of bread, soup, and smoked meat—their first proper food in ages.
"Rest today," Shong said, sucking marrow from a bone. "Tomorrow we scout the docks. Ships mean leads. Tasty—what meat is this?"
Charon abruptly asked, "Whose territory is this?"
"Borderline area. Maybe Megamon's? Not sure—it's been years." Charon nodded silently.
Idor—a errand boy for the twin-blade Hinjo faction—trailed two young men: one barely adult, the other mid-twenties. They entered the remote Path of Waves inn.
Hiding in an alley, Idor froze as one target seemed to spot him. 'But they went inside...?'
Maintaining composure, Idor walked downhill before sprinting to the Hinjo hideout. "Errua! Got a lead!" he shouted to the obese gatekeeper.
Upstairs, faction lieutenant Reki—a lean, sharp-faced man—played cards with blue-sashed comrades. "Idor! Report."
"Exchange Post 8's Luma tipped me off! They're carrying a gold-filled pouch!"
"Where?"
"Path of Waves inn. Staying there."
Reki tsked. "Troublesome location... Descriptions?"
"One: late teens? Brown curls, slim. Other: black ponytail."
"Fine catch! Monitor their movements." Reki tossed Idor a silver coin—50 shillings when split with Luma.
As Idor left, Reki ordered subordinates: "Fetch Haskell. We have work."
A grunt complained, "Why not raid them?"
"Path of Waves is under Megamon. Cause trouble, and we lose everything. Stealth first—force if needed."
The men nodded grimly.
