NOVGO.NET Chapter 396: A Gift From Greshan
Chapter 396: A Gift From Greshan
The streets of Greshan were quieter now. The festival lights that had once burned bright to honor survival had dimmed, and though the air still carried the scent of roasted food and incense, most citizens had returned to their lives. The city had been scarred, yes, but it stood tall, defiant as ever.
And now, Damien, Lyone, and Arielle stood at its great stone gates, preparing to leave it all behind.
Damien flexed his right hand absently, feeling the rush of energy coursing through him.
The battle in Greshan had tested him harder than most of his previous clashes, but instead of weakening him, it had sharpened his core, like tempered steel. His essence felt denser, more stable, and his muscles moved with an ease that told him he had broken past yet another unseen wall.
He rolled his shoulders, smirking faintly. “I feel like I could take on a small army by myself now.”
Lyone, walking at his left, gave him a sideways glance, her hair catching the morning sun. “Your ego survived the battle intact as well, I see.”
“I’m just being honest,” Damien replied, but his grin widened at her dry tone.
On his right, Arielle remained silent, her hood drawn over her pale features. Her eyes—sharp and endlessly calm—remained fixed on the road ahead. She had been that way since they began walking, quiet and contemplative, as though measuring every step.
Damien slowed just enough to match her pace. “Still not telling us the whole truth about our destination?”
Arielle’s lips curved faintly, though she didn’t look at him. “You’ll know when you need to. For now, Delwig is where we must go. Trust me.”
He did trust her. Strange though it might have seemed—after all, she had been a stranger only weeks ago—her presence no longer felt foreign. He couldn’t pinpoint when it happened, but her voice and her guidance had become anchors. He shrugged. “Fine. Just don’t expect me to act surprised when we get there.”
Lyone exhaled sharply, a sound between amusement and exasperation. “You’ll be surprised. I can already feel it.”
The trio passed through the commercial district before the gates, where merchants shouted their prices and travelers bartered over mounts and supplies.
Among them stood the towering spires of Greshan’s Teleportation Halls. The arrays shimmered faintly, runes etched into their platforms glowing with restrained power. They were rare, expensive, and heavily monitored.
Lyone glanced at them as they passed. “We could be in Delwig before nightfall if we used one of those.”
Damien shook his head firmly. “And register our names, our destination, and hand our movements to whoever cares to look? No.” His tone was absolute. “We’ve already drawn enough attention. Greshan knows my face now. I won’t leave a trail for anyone else to follow.”
Lyone didn’t argue. He, too, slightly understood the weight of being watched. Arielle simply inclined her head, as though his decision aligned perfectly with what she had already intended.
Instead, Damien turned their steps toward the military quarter, where the Commander of Greshan’s forces oversaw the recovery efforts. The man, broad-shouldered with streaks of gray through his beard, had personally led the defense alongside his men. Now, when he saw Damien approach, his stern face softened with recognition and respect.
“You’ve come to leave us,” the Commander said, stepping down from the scaffolding where soldiers repaired the walls.
Damien nodded. “Our journey continues. But I’ll need something from you before we go.”
The man arched a brow. “And what does Greshan’s savior require?”
“A carriage. The best you can spare.”
The Commander studied him for a moment, then laughed—a booming sound that carried across the courtyard. “A carriage, of all things! I thought you’d demand gold, or artifacts, or land. Very well. You’ll not receive just ’any’ carriage.”
He gestured to a nearby stable where a finely wrought vehicle stood—sleek, reinforced with enchanted steel, its wheels etched with runes that reduced drag and reinforced balance. Its wood gleamed like polished obsidian.
“This was mine,” the Commander said proudly. “My personal carriage, built to carry me across battlefronts without faltering. Take it. A gift from Greshan to you.”
Damien inclined his head in gratitude. “It will serve us well.”
The Commander’s eyes twinkled with curiosity. “Shall I have horses readied for you? Only the strongest can pull this weight.”
Damien smirked, lifting a hand. “No need.”
Once they had taken the carriage to the path leading beyond the gates, Damien raised his hand and summoned one of his mythical beasts.
The ground trembled faintly as magic essence surged, condensing into a massive blue portal and from it, a white blue leapt out.
Fenrir.
The monstrous wolf materialized with a growl, its fur bristling with silver streaks of essence, its eyes burning like blue fire. Its presence alone made nearby travelers stumble back in fear, their horses neighing in panic.
Damien reached out calmly, brushing his fingers through Fenrir’s thick mane. The beast lowered its head slightly, submitting to him with a rumble that vibrated through the air.
“Today you’re a draft beast,” Damien murmured.
Under his mental command, Fenrir allowed the carriage to be attached. The sight was surreal—an apex predator bound to a royal-grade carriage, its strength more than enough to carry them across plains and mountains.
Lyone raised a brow. “You’re making him pull us? That’s hardly dignified for a wolf like him.”
Damien smirked. “He’s not pulling. He’s running—and he likes running. Watch.”
The three climbed into the carriage, Arielle taking the far seat, her gaze turned outward, Lyone settling with crossed arms, and Damien at the center, relaxed but alert.
The Commander of Greshan and several soldiers had gathered at the gates to watch them leave. Though no speeches were made, the silent respect in their eyes spoke louder than words.
Damien leaned slightly out of the carriage door, raising a hand in farewell. “Take care of your city. We’ll meet again.”
The Commander bowed his head in return.
Then Damien gave the order. “Go.”
Fenrir roared and leapt forward. The carriage lurched once, then surged down the road like an arrow loosed from a bow. Trees blurred past, the wind howling in their ears, yet the ride was smooth—Fenrir’s strength and the enchanted wheels making the impossible feel effortless.
Within moments, the towering walls of Greshan shrank behind them, fading into the horizon. The city that had tested them, scarred them, and forged them stronger was gone from view. Ahead lay endless plains and the promise of Delwig.
Damien sat back against the seat, eyes narrowing against the rushing wind. For the first time in days, there was quiet. No battle. No alarms. Just the steady thunder of Fenrir’s paws and the open road.
But he knew better than to be lulled by peace. Every mile forward carried them closer to Delwig—and to whatever Arielle was trying to reveal to Damien.
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AN: Apologies for not uploading yesterday and for that reason, I’ll upload two Chapters today. My final papers are next week and so I might miss a few update days but after those, we’re back to normal updates.
I love you all. Thank you all.