Veilbreaker! Oops I Bleed Again
Chapter 62: By Color

Chapter 62: By Color

Standing atop a towering cliff, Draven, Bella, and Deka gazed in awe at the vast kingdom spread before them.

The massive, impenetrable walls stretched as far as the eye could see, enclosing a dense medieval city.

Red clay-tiled roofs covered most buildings.

A few had blue-tiled rooftops shimmering in the distance.

Even outside the walls, small houses and markets sprawled, hinting at the overpopulation within.

Inside, the buildings were tightly packed, most rising two to four stories high, with narrow streets winding between them.

Five massive structures stood out among the sea of rooftops, each a landmark of its own.

At the very center, the royal palace loomed, enclosed within its fortified square walls, standing as the heart of the kingdom.

Draven let out a low whistle.

"Damn. This is straight out of a movie."

"So, what’s the plan?" Bella asked.

Draven turned to the armor-clad teleporter. "What’s your name?"

"Dylan."

Draven smirked. "Alright, Dylan. Let’s go inside the kingdom."

Dylan was about to activate his teleportation when Bella grabbed his arm.

"Wait! Do you even have a plan?"

Draven raised an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah. Get inside. Why?"

Belle sighed in frustration.

"That’s it? Do you realize how dangerous that is? We don’t even know if we’re on a wanted list yet! The Noble saw our faces back at the lab, especially Deka’s face. He’s obsessed with him. If they recognize us, we’re screwed!"

Draven stretched his arms casually.

"Sounds fun."

His grin widened. "Hiding like a rat is boring. Where’s the thrill in that?"

Before Belle could argue, Draven waved his hand and grinned.

"See you!"

At the blink of an eye, Draven and Dylan vanished.

Bella’s eyes twitched.

"...Oh. Now I understand Naisha. No wonder they fight all the time!"

She turned to Deka for support, but he just shrugged.

"C’mon, not you too!"

—

Arriving inside the kingdom...

Draven and Dylan reappeared in a narrow, dark alleyway.

The air reeked of garbage and filth.

Rats scattered at their sudden arrival, disappearing into the shadows.

Bella and Deka arrived moments later, looking around in disgust.

Bella frowned. "Why the hell did you bring us here?"

Dylan bowed slightly. "Apologies, my queen. But this is the safest place to teleport without being seen or asked for identification."

"He’s right," Draven said. "We need a place to stay, even just temporarily."

Dylan nodded. "There are plenty of inns, but you’ll need silver to rent a room."

Draven, Bella, and Deka all turned their heads toward Dylan, silently staring.

Bella raised an eyebrow. "You have money, right?"

Dylan sighed, pulling out a brown leather pouch in his waist. He loosened the knot, and a pile of gold coins spilled into his palm.

Draven picked up one gold coin, flipping it between his fingers before biting it lightly.

"Damn. This is real gold."

"Of course it is. Gold coins are gold," Bella rolled her eyes.

With that settled, they stepped out onto the bustling streets of Zarathon.

But what should have been an exciting first look at the kingdom quickly turned into a nightmare.

The streets were overflowing with people.

Vendors shouted, merchants haggled, nobles rode in luxurious carriages, and soldiers in gray armor patrolled the roads.

But none of that mattered.

Because among the crowd, chained Verdants were being paraded like animals.

A group of three Verdants, collars around their thin, bruised necks, struggled to carry a massive wooden crate.

Their rags barely covered their bodies, exposing their wounds and frail figures.

"CRACK!"

A whip lashed against their backs.

"Move faster, you f*cking garbage!" The slave master barked.

Bella clenched her fist.

Draven’s gaze darkened as he put a hand on Bella’s shoulder.

He remained calm.

He had expected this.

He knew Verdants were treated as slaves.

But not like this.

Near the alley, a Verdant man lay dying on the ground, barely breathing.

No one stopped.

No one even looked at him.

It was as if he didn’t exist.

The people of Zarathon were used to this.

They walked past the suffering as if it were normal.

Bella gritted her teeth, her hands trembling.

Yes, the experimental ones were the worst.

They saw bodies that were already dead, with no brains or hearts.

But this one hits differently.

Here, they witness it firsthand.

People who are still alive, yet suffering, tortured, and barely clinging to life.

Wounded, broken, and in agony, they look like walking corpses.

As they observed quietly, someone caught Bella’s attention.

A young Verdant girl, barely eight years old, was dragged by a disgusting, overweight noble.

She had chains around her wrists and neck.

Her thin arms struggled to keep up with his forceful pulls.

The man grinned. His eyes gleamed with sick pleasure.

Something inside Bella snapped.

A cold mist began to swirl around her feet.

Her hatred seeped into the air.

"I’m going to kill you all," she muttered, her voice trembling with fury.

Just as she was about to unleash her power, a sharp voice cut through her rage.

"What do you think you’re doing?"

Bella turned.

A soldier in gray armor, helmet tucked under his arm, stood behind her.

"Using skills in the capital without permission is illegal. Punishment is either death. Or a lifetime in prison. Were you not aware of that?"

His cold eyes were locked onto her.

Bella stiffened.

She instinctively glanced at Dylan. Through their silent connection, she gave him a single order.

Dylan nodded and turned around, walking straight toward Draven and Deka.

Seeing Dylan, the gray-armored soldier froze.

To their surprise, the soldier saluted Dylan.

"Sir! You’re here? A-Are you with them?"

Dylan returned the salute.

"Yes. They are my companions. Her skill is still active, and I’m teaching her to control it."

The soldier immediately lowered his head.

"Apologies, sir. I misunderstood."

Dylan waved him off.

"It’s fine. You’re dismissed."

Without hesitation, the soldier nodded and walked away without another word.

Draven watched, then grinned.

"Damn. You must be a high rank."

Dylan kept walking.

"Yes. Our ranks are based on armor color."

The commander’s color was white with blue lines.

It was followed by pure white.

Then bronze.

And finally gray, which is the lowest rank that patrols the city.

Draven scoffed.

"This world really loves ranking itself by color."

As they walked, Dylan led them toward a big inn.