Chapter 373: The Sleepless City of the Northern Region

Not long after, the carriage began to slow, and the steady rumble of its wheels was soon joined by the muted voices of men outside.

Gradually, Ruvian opened his eyes — waking from a brief nap — when he heard one of the city guards addressing their coachman near the front of the carriage.

"State where you came from, and your business in Valcavein at this hour."

"From Natoris Town," the coachman answered, pulling the reins until the horses came to a complete halt. "I’m carrying two passengers into the city, and we’ll be lodging here for the night."

"Natoris?" the guard repeated. "Long road to be riding this late. Roads give you any trouble?"

"No, nothing worth mentioning. We didn’t run into anything along the way."

The guard pressed him with a few more routine questions, his tone curt and practiced, before finally stepping aside.

"Fine. Keep to the main road once you’re inside. Northern gate closes completely before midnight, so don’t expect to leave again until morning."

"I understand."

"Then move along. Don’t block the gate."

Hearing that, Ruvian shifted his gaze toward the window as the carriage slowly began moving once more. A moment later, they passed beneath the towering stone gate, and the scenery beyond gradually opened into the streets of Valcavein City.

’Finally, we are here.’

Even at this late hour, people still moved along the main road beneath the dim, warm glow of iron lamps hanging from the surrounding buildings.

From what Ruvian could see through the window, most of the houses were constructed from thick stone and dark timber, their sturdy frames clearly built to endure the harsher climate of the northern region.

Looking farther ahead, he noticed taller structures looming above the clustered rooftops, along with several watchtowers standing like stone giants along the outer walls.

Normally, the northern region of Averenthia was known for its unforgiving cold, especially during the deepest months of winter. However, it was already March, so winter had finally begun to surrender its hold over the region.

The nights were still bitter though, but compared to a month or two earlier, the weather had become much easier to bear. Valcavein itself stood as one of the largest cities in the north, and most of the surrounding lands fell under the rule of House Arcanis.

Their duty was not limited to governing towns or maintaining order across their territory. They were also entrusted with guarding one of the most dangerous borders in the entire kingdom.

Far beyond the city stood Frostgrave Fortress: a colossal defensive wall stretching across the northern frontier of Averenthia.

Beyond that wall stretched a hostile land where Voidspawns had made their homes for centuries. Even during the age of the Demon-Human War, and later throughout the long years of the Paragons, the northern frontier had never truly known peace.

There had always been dangerous Voidspawns roaming beyond the Frostgrave Fortress. That was precisely why House Arcanis had remained one of the kingdom’s most important noble families for countless generations.

For centuries, it was their soldiers and bloodline who had held Frostgrave Fortress, standing against the horrors beyond and preventing most of those threats from ever reaching the cities behind them.

Ruvian rested one arm against the window as the carriage continued deeper into that very city.

*****

A short while later, the carriage finally slowed once more before coming to a halt beside a modest coaching square near the main road, where several inns and carriage houses were still lit and operating despite the late hour.

Ruvian roused Calyra from her sleep, and after settling the fare with the coachman, the two of them stepped down onto the worn stone street.

Casting a glance around, Ruvian noticed merchants, weary travelers, and scattered groups of locals still drifting through the nearby streets as though the city was full of life.

"Hmm, there are still quite a lot of people roaming around even though it’s already around ten," Ruvian muttered, his gaze following a group disappearing farther down the lamplit street.

Calyra glanced toward him before following his gaze toward the busy street.

"You’ll get used to it. People here don’t usually sleep early, which is why Valcavein is known as the Sleepless City."

Ruvian turned his gaze back toward her, while Calyra slowly raised her head toward the colossal fortress wall looming in the distance. Even from this far away, Frostgrave Fortress dominated the northern horizon like an enormous black scar carved across the land.

Despite the usual calm expression on her face, there was a faint spark of excitement hidden within her eyes as she asked:

"Do you want to know why?"

Ruvian raised an eyebrow at the subtle change in her tone before following her gaze toward the distant wall of Frostgrave Fortress.

"Why?"

Calyra’s eyes grew contemplative, carrying a trace of distant nostalgia as she recalled an old tale her master had once told her.

"Long ago, during the Human-Demon War, Frostgrave Fortress was nothing like the fortress you see today.

Back then, the northern defenses were little more than several crude stone walls and scattered military outposts built along the border. They were constantly damaged, rebuilt, and destroyed again whenever another wave of Voidspawn descended from the northern wastelands."

Her voice gradually lost its earlier lightness.

"Thousands died defending those walls. Soldiers, magus, craftsmen, even ordinary civilians who had nowhere else to run."

Calyra paused briefly, her eyes narrowing as though she could almost picture that distant age before her.

"And the people of Valcavein barely slept during those years. Every night, they could hear the cries of Voidspawn coming from beyond the walls, never knowing whether that would be the night the defenses finally collapsed."

Ruvian remained silent as he listened.

"And then, in the middle of that hopeless age, two figures finally stepped forward."

A faint gleam returned to Calyra’s eyes, carrying something that almost resemble pride.

"One of them was my ancestor, Marchioness Alizée Arcanis, the woman who would later become known as the Maiden of Frostgrave."

She paused for a moment before continuing.

"And the other... was one of the Paragons himself."

Her voice softened slightly.

"Lord Ryzark Ascarov."

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[Chapter 373: The Sleepless City of the Northern Region]