Damien took a deep breath, stretching his sore muscles as he surveyed the dawn-lit landscape before him. The sky was now painted in hues of orange, red, and gold, the rising sun glistening off the horizon, marking the beginning of a new day.

The cold air of the dungeon had long since left his body, replaced by the gentle warmth of morning. He had been fighting all night, and though exhaustion still lingered in his bones, he knew he had no time to rest.

He had a city to leave and a destination to reach.

With a mental note to his system, Damien activated his summoning. ‘Summon Aquila.’

The air shimmered, rippling like disturbed water as the familiar blue portal appeared in front of Damien and from it, regal figure emerged.

Aquila.

The Griffin stretched its golden wings, its sharp, intelligent eyes locking onto Damien immediately.

Damien stepped forward, placing a hand on Aquila’s beak, giving it a gentle pat before swiftly mounting onto its back.

“Let’s get moving,” he murmured.

With one powerful beat of its wings, Aquila launched into the sky, carrying Damien away from the dungeon’s entrance and toward the towering gates of Velhast.

Flying with Aquila cut down travel time significantly, and in mere minutes, Damien spotted the massive walls of Velhast rising in the distance.

As they neared, the city’s gate guards quickly took notice of him.

Even from the air, Damien could see their postures shift, their hands instinctively reaching toward their weapons.

But then, recognition dawned on their faces.

By the time Aquila landed gracefully before the gate, the guards were already waiting.

One of them—a tall, broad-shouldered man with a scar running down his cheek—stepped forward first.

“Back so soon?” the guard asked, smirking. “How did the mission go?”

Damien dismounted, rolling his shoulders before answering.

“Successful,” he said simply. “The dungeon has been cleared.”

The guards exchanged glances, nodding approvingly. They would check out his words later. For now, they would remain at their stations.

However, Damien deliberately left out key details.

He didn’t mention the demon, nor the fact that it had spoken in human tongue like one of them.

That kind of information wasn’t for just anyone to know.

Instead, Damien reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, ornate black box.

He tossed it toward the scarred guard, who caught it with practiced ease.

“A gift,” Damien said. “Spoils of war.”

The guard raised a brow, opening the box slightly to reveal the Void Key inside.

His eyes widened.

“This is…!”

“A Void Key,” Damien confirmed. “Share it among yourselves.”

The other guards immediately leaned in, murmuring amongst themselves in excitement.

“You didn’t have to do this,” another guard said, clearly surprised.

Damien simply shrugged.

“Consider it payment for letting me through so early,” he said, smirking slightly.

The guards laughed, clearly pleased.

“Where are you heading now?” the scarred guard asked, still inspecting the key.

“Home,” Damien replied.

The guards nodded, seemingly content with that answer. They didn’t push further, nor did they ask where ‘home’ actually was.

Instead, they gave him a respectful nod.

“Safe travels, then,” the lead guard said. “We’ll see you around.”

Damien returned the nod before stepping past the gates. “I don’t think so.” However, his words never got to their ears.

The city was just waking up.

Shops were only beginning to open, merchants setting up their stalls along the cobbled streets. The air smelled of freshly baked bread, mixing with the lingering scent of morning dew.

Despite the early hour, the streets were still scantily populated, the usual bustle of the city not yet in full swing.

Damien moved swiftly, keeping to less crowded alleys, making his way back toward the small inn where he had rented a room.

When he arrived, instead of walking through the front entrance, Damien scaled the side of the building, climbing through the same window he had left through the night before.

Once inside, he immediately washed up, the warm water easing the tension in his muscles.

The past few hours had been brutal, and his body welcomed the brief relief.

After finishing, he changed into fresh clothes, pulling on his coat before heading toward the inn’s main entrance.

As he exited, he spotted the innkeeper, a middle-aged man with graying hair, polishing the bar counter.

Damien approached and set the room key down on the counter.

“I’m leaving,” he said simply.

The innkeeper looked up, raising an eyebrow.

“So soon?” he asked. “Didn’t expect you to stay just a night.”

Damien shrugged.

“Business calls,” he said.

The innkeeper nodded knowingly.

“Well, safe travels then,” he said, before pausing. “You’re not leaving by road, are you?”

Damien smirked.

“The teleportation array you pointed out yesterday.”

The innkeeper whistled.

“Fancy,” he muttered. “Well, good luck wherever you’re heading.”

Damien gave a short nod, then turned toward the door and stepped out onto the street.

His destination was set.

It was time to leave Velhast.

The teleportation center wasn’t far.

By the time Damien arrived, the city’s activity was beginning to pick up, more people filling the streets as morning stretched further.

The center itself was a large stone building, with guards stationed outside and workers managing incoming and outgoing travelers.

As soon as Damien entered, he was immediately approached by a worker—the same woman who had registered his travel the previous day.

“You’ve arrived just in time,” she said with a polite smile. “The lockdown on Ryedale’s teleportation arrays has been lifted. You’re clear to travel.”

Damien nodded.

“Good,” he said. “Then send me now.”

The worker blinked, momentarily surprised at his urgency, but quickly nodded in understanding.

“Very well,” she said. “Follow me.”

Damien was led toward one of the large glowing arrays, the intricate symbols on the ground pulsing with energy.

The teleportation worker handed him a small token.

“Hold this,” she instructed. “It will stabilize your passage.”

Damien took it, gripping it firmly.

The worker stepped back, raising her hands over the array.

“Activating teleportation to Ryedale in five… four… three…”

The symbols beneath Damien’s feet glowed brighter, arcs of energy dancing in the air around him.

“Two… one… Initiate.”

A blinding light swallowed him.

The moment Damien reappeared, the first thing he noticed was the warmth.

Unlike the cold morning air of Velhast, Ryedale was warmer, the temperature suggesting that this city was in the midst of early summer.

He stood on a circular stone platform, identical to the one in Velhast, surrounded by a bustling teleportation station.

The streets beyond were already alive, filled with merchants, travelers, and local citizens beginning their daily routines.

As he took his first step into the city of Ryedale, a smirk tugged at his lips. “Westmont isn’t so far away anymore.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep