Chained Hearts: From Slavery to Sovereignty
Chapter 115: Old Woman

Chapter 115: Chapter 115: Old Woman

Two days had passed, yet Cassian and his group found nothing. They had only heard bits of stories from here and there, and every story pointed to different things.

Now they were forced to think that there was nothing like this, that it was only people’s imaginations or rumors attracting them here.

They had scoured the city and spoken to traders, mercenaries, and even innkeepers, but no one gave them a clear answer. Either the people of Galdreth were unaware of the city’s secrets, or they were too afraid to speak.

But one thing was certain—something was attracting them here aside from rumors too. According to the natives, the city’s unnatural pull had drawn countless people here, yet no one voiced why they had come. It was as if some unspoken rule bound them all.

By noon on the third day, the search had become exhausting. Under the golden haze of the afternoon sun, the streets were as crowded as ever. The scent of spices, roasted meat, and damp stone filled the air, mixing with the sweaty scent of people.

As they walked through the marketplace, Cassian’s gaze landed on a frail old woman sitting at the edge of the street. She hunched over a woven basket filled with withered vegetables, her milky-white eyes unfocused.

It was undoubtedly a blind woman selling vegetables that no one would buy.

Nearby, a noble in flamboyant silks strolled toward her, his nose wrinkled in disgust. "Filthy beggar," he sneered. With a careless swipe of his boot, he kicked the basket over, sending the vegetables scattering onto the dusty road.

The old woman flinched but said nothing.

Cassian’s jaw tightened at the noble’s rude behavior. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, kneeling to gather the fallen vegetables.

The noble’s eyes flicked to him, irritation flashing across his face. "What are you doing?" His voice was sharp, laced with arrogance.

Cassian stood, meeting the man’s gaze with an icy stare. "I don’t like kicking the helpless," he said simply. "Only cowards do that."

The noble’s face twisted with rage, and he pointed at Cassian’s nose with a trembling finger. "How dare you—"

"Make this bastard kneel in front of me!" he ordered his escorts, his rage bubbling over. No one had dared to defy him like this and humiliate him. "How dare he—"

Before he could finish, the knights under Cassian’s command unsheathed their swords in perfect unison, even before his escorts could do anything. The sharp ring of steel silenced the surrounding crowd.

The noble froze, his arrogance crumbling in an instant. His eyes darted between the gleaming blades and Cassian’s cold expression. His mouth opened as if to protest, but no words came out.

Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and fled, disappearing into the crowd like a beaten dog.

"Damn! He was just a low noble from a nearby city, yet he had to hire escorts to pretend to be filthy rich. And aside from him, who knows better than his escorts? They were only for display, and even their swords were fake.

Just by looking at Cassian’s knights’ swords, he could tell how sharp they were and that they had probably taken countless lives.

Fighting with him simply meant he was digging his own grave.

The market, which had been filled with curious onlookers, quickly emptied. No one wished to linger near a group of knights after such a confrontation. Within moments, the once-bustling street became eerily quiet.

Cassian sighed, shaking his head before turning back to the old woman. "Let me help you," he said, picking up the last of the scattered vegetables and placing them back in her basket.

The woman’s lips curled into a faint smile. "You have a kind heart, young one," she murmured. "Not many would bother with an old hag like me."

Cassian ignored the remark and offered his hand. "Where do you live? I’ll walk you home."

The woman hesitated before nodding. "Very well... if you don’t mind following an old woman to the edge of the city."

She led them through narrow streets, away from the bustling marketplace and into the farthest corner of Galdreth. Here, the grandeur of the city faded, replaced by scattered huts and small mud houses.

The people who lived here were very few, their clothes were worn, their faces hollow with hardship. Children peeked out from behind doorways, watching with wide, curious eyes as Cassian and his group passed.

At last, the old woman stopped in front of a tiny hut, its roof patched with straw and its wooden door barely holding together and looks like it would fall apart any moment. She pushed it open and gestured for them to enter.

Inside, the air was cool and damp. A single wooden table sat at the center, and the faint scent of dried herbs lingered in the corners.

The woman moved slowly, retrieving a small clay jug from a shelf before pouring water into rough-hewn cups.

"Drink," she said, placing them on the table. "You must be weary from your journey."

Cassian accepted the cup but didn’t drink right away. He studied the woman carefully. There was something about her, something he couldn’t quite place.

As he sat down, he finally asked, "Tell me... how long have you lived in Galdreth?"

The old woman chuckled softly, her blind eyes gleaming. "Long enough to remember the city before it became what it is today."

Cassian’s fingers tightened around his cup. He was right—the old woman surely knew something.

He had thought maybe the old lady could tell him more about Galdreth since she seemed native to the city and very familiar with every nook and cranny, even though she was blind.

And that was only possible when someone had spent their entire life in the same place.

Now, listening to the old woman’s confirmation, his heart accelerated in anticipation of finding something about this city.

He had a feeling he was about to hear something no one else dared to speak.