The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 133: The Western University

Chapter 133: The Western University

The following day, we made toward the distant city. With the end of our month-long journey in sight, Soltair and Trithe were in high spirits, constantly skipping ahead, only turning and waiting impatiently for me to catch up. Fyren remained at my side, but I felt somewhat awkward around him. Why exactly was he so interested in me?

As we approached the city through a low, winding valley, I recognized the towering walls. They rested high above us, built into the mountain itself, but the tips of the central citadel peaked behind the stone curtains.

I took a shaky breath, summoning my staff just so I had something to hold on to. Judging from the lack of damage, the dragon had yet to strike, but for how long? As far as I could tell, none of my visions had been inaccurate, although many hadn’t come to pass yet, which meant it was only a matter of time.

As we got within range of regular human vision, curious heads began appearing over the parapets. I couldn’t blame them. We approached from the depths of the mountains, far from the normal routes travelers and merchants followed. The reception was warm, however, especially once they realized our identities.

As they directed us toward a nearby side gate, I reached into my spatial satchel, my fingers finding the soft folds of the enchanted cloak. I hesitated, peering up at the guards atop the walls. We were too far below for them to get a good look at my features, so I could still hide myself.

A subtle pressure washed over me, and I turned to find Fyren watching me. His gentle smile gave me pause, and I slowly nodded. I released a pent-up breath and dropped my satchel.

"No cloak?" Soltair asked, eying me curiously. Suddenly, his expression fell, and leaned over, whispering, "Does the Sunpurge still hurt?"

I shook my head, not quite sure how to respond. "I, uh, think it’s better this way."

The harsh shriek of metal ripped through the air as the gates opened. As the heavy wooden doors swung aside, a fully assembled troop of guards raised their swords, saluting us. Although their chests heaved as though they’d been sprinting, their eyes gleamed excitedly. A violet rose was stamped on each of their steel breastplates, the crest of the Western University.

"Welcome, heroes!" A grizzled man exclaimed with dark, gray-flecked hair. Unlike the armored guards, he wore fine robes and carried a golden staff. The items glowed so brightly it didn’t take the Eyes of Fate to know they were magical.

Soltair took the lead and stepped through the gate, pulling the rest of us behind him in his wake. "I’m afraid we must skip the pleasantries. I need to speak with the City Lord."

The mage blinked, mouth parting slightly as the abrupt request cut off his welcome. "I-I see," he stammered. "Right this way."

As we followed him deeper into the city, its unique character became even more apparent. The streets, though narrow, were lined with buildings that seemed to meld seamlessly with the mountainside. Intricately carved facades adorned each market, temple, or home, showcasing a graceful architecture I hadn’t seen since the Divine Throne.

The bustling streets were filled with a diverse array of people, and the atmosphere was charged with a sense of intellectual curiosity and magic. Groups of students from the prestigious Mage University wandered the streets and engaged in animated discussions about spells and arcane theories. Their robes, adorned with various sigils and symbols, seemed to separate them into five distinct groups, although what they were was beyond me.

The bustling marketplaces were home to countless strange sights, both mundane and magical. Every other shop seemed ablaze with colorful lights and spells, creating a gaudy effect that made my sensitive eyes ache. But I quickly forgot the pain as we arrived higher in the city, where lavish cages displayed exotic creatures, some of them monsters we’d encountered on our journey.

The city’s layout continued to wind upwards along the mountain’s contours, revealing stunning vistas at every turn. Suspended bridges and winding staircases connected different levels of the city, creating a mesmerizing labyrinth of walkways. At times, we caught glimpses of cascading waterfalls that supplied the city with fresh, crystal-clear water.

As we ascended higher into the city, we eventually reached the majestic citadel perched on the peak of the mountain, overlooking the rest of the city. A massive crystal, as large as any Shard of Omniscience, towered at the peak, aflame with magical energy. I squinted, staring through the brilliance to find an array of powerful wards and enchantments anchored to the crystal. Several of them extended over the entire city, likely a part of whatever defenses the city held.

"The Western University!" The mage cried, gesturing grandly toward the elegant walls and spires of the citadel.

"Very impressive." Fyren’s unconsciously licked his lips, eyes trained on the giant crystal.

Our escort smiled proudly. "Naturally. This place has long been known as the ’Holy Land for Mages.’ It more than deserves that reputation as well. Can you feel the mana in the air?"

I closed my eyes and reached out with my senses. The air felt heavy, like it was full of pollen. After a moment, I gasped, my tail twitching in surprise. It wasn’t pollen, but particles of magic, which were slowly infiltrating my body and filling my soul. Even after climbing the mountain to reach this point, I felt invigorated, better than I had in days.

"That’s the Heart of the West. It’s said to be a gift from the gods to raise and protect our fledgling mages."

Soltair cleared his throat, folding his arms impatiently. "I’m sure it’s fascinating, but we really must hurry. Our urgency cannot be overstated."

"As you wish, Hero," the mage said, bowing low.

The citadel consisted of several massive wings, each as large as a small town. Students flowed through the campus like rain down a roof, streaming to their classes or appointments. They all stopped to give us curious looks, and I was surprised to find many of them close to my age.

"Who’s that?"

"They look like adventurers."

"No, they’re too powerful. Maybe... heroes?"

"What? But that one’s a slave!"

"And not bad looking, either. Maybe they’ve come to enroll."

"I hope so. I wouldn’t mind waking up to a slave like that in my bed."

"I’m more for the blonde, myself. I wonder if she’d let me ask her out?"

As the scattered gossip turned to Trithe, Soltair stopped in his tracks. The entire wing of the campus trembled as he released his aura, freezing the students in their place. Even at a magical university, the unrestrained power of a peak seventh-level combatant was not to be underestimated, and only the strongest remained standing.

Our escort, whose knees knocked together with an audible thud, stared at Soltair like he was a monster before hurriedly clearing his throat. "Please, return to your activities. There will be time to greet the heroes later."

"Aren’t we in a hurry?" Fyren muttered.

"I thought it was sweet," Trithe said, smiling at Soltair.

The Sun Hero shook his head, the rage fading from his eyes, and released his aura. "Yes, sorry. I don’t know what came over me."

"I do," I whispered, my voice too low for anyone to overhear. "You used to act that way for me, too."

Free from his overwhelming pressure, the students scrambled, most casting terrified looks behind them. But a few oddballs stuck around, staring at Soltair in awe, or even jotting down a few notes. I guess every school had its oddballs.

Without the crowds blocking our way, we advanced smoothly to the center tower, over which the Heart floated. It was enormous, perhaps a quarter mile in circumference, and soared over a thousand feet into the sky. Before we could enter, however, the main entrance burst open, and a battalion of wizards stormed out.

Their leader, an ancient-looking man with a beard that brushed his belt, carried a regal staff crowned by a molten phoenix. He stopped short upon seeing us, blinking in confusion before peering over our shoulders.

"Excuse us, adventurers."

As they pushed by us, I overheard them whispering about "surprise attack," "Search the campus," and "dangerous presence."

Our escort cleared his throat, waving down the leader once more. He coughed, face turning pale as he bowed low.

"Forgive me, my Lord. But I believe you sensed the heroes here. One of them... gave a demonstration to the students, so there’s no cause for alarm."

"Is that so?" the old mage asked, eyes narrowing at us.

He waved his hand and the party of mages dispersed, grumbling to themselves about whatever happened to irritate them with the situation.

Soltair stepped forward, appearing completely unashamed, and asked a question that silenced the tower’s courtyard. "Have you seen a dragon around here?"