ERA OF DESTINY-Chapter 157: WHERE SHOULD WE GO– II

"Say that again." Kiaria’s tone sharpened.

All attention turned to Azriel.

"I... do not dare," he replied.

"What if I insist?"

Diala tightened her hold on Kiaria’s wrist. She did not speak, but her head moved slightly–a warning against escalation. Aizrel looked between them in confusion, unable to understand what had shifted. Ru and Yi stepped forward instinctively, placing themselves between Patron and Chief without hostility, but with readiness.

"Chief. Patron," Ru said carefully. "What is happening?"

Kiaria did not answer him.

"Yi," he said instead, eyes still on Azriel, "give me an empty scroll."

Yi raised his hand to retrieve one from his spatial ring.

Nothing came.

His brows tightened. He tried again.

Still nothing.

"I cannot access it."

The street remained loud. A woman argued over grain prices behind them. A cart rolled past as if no fracture existed in the world.

"Have you not understood yet?" Kiaria asked quietly. "Spiritual energy is sealed."

The words did not rise in accusation. They settled like confirmation.

"But you can still get a scroll." Kiaria said.

He stared at Yi steadily.

He did not explain further.

He waited.

Several breaths passed before comprehension reached Yi’s eyes. Without another word, he turned and walked toward a stall where scrolls and bound volumes lay stacked in careless abundance. No one questioned him. No one even noticed.

He took one and returned.

"Patron."

He offered it forward with both hands.

"Give it to Chief Azriel," Kiaria said. "He will fold a bird."

Ru and Yi exchanged a brief glance–small, but clear.

Yi handed the scroll over.

Azriel accepted it calmly. He began folding with practiced precision, each crease clean, deliberate, aligned. The movement was steady. A clear flawless act.

Aizrel shifted two steps backward.

Mu Long’s hand closed around the handle of his axe.

Princess moved slightly aside.

Diala released Kiaria’s wrist.

Ru and Yi stepped back to stand at Kiaria’s side.

The street continued breathing.

"How long?" Kiaria asked.

"Soon," Azriel answered.

Mu Long moved without warning.

The axe descended in a single, merciless arc.

The blade struck Azriel’s neck.

There was no resistance.

No blood.

No sound of impact against flesh.

The instant steel touched him, his form collapsed inward–not falling, but flattening. Structure dissolved. Shape thinned. What stood before them became a sheet of paper, blank and weightless, drifting down onto the cobblestone.

The axe struck stone and left a shallow groove.

Mu Long bent, lifted the sheet, and brought it forward.

"Patron."

Kiaria took it.

He opened it slowly.

Empty.

Kiaria’s fingers tightened at the edges.

He released a deep exhale.

He folded it once, then again, and handed it to Ru.

"Keep it."

Ru slid the folded letter inside his inner robe and nodded.

"Beware of rage," Kiaria said evenly.

"If not for Shade, I would have taken Azriel’s life."

He let the words settle.

"Do not ignite your emotions here."

Each of them nodded.

Kiaria walked forward.

Everyone followed him. But, street did not react to what had occurred. Vendors continued shouting. Children argued over sweets. A man laughed loudly at something unseen. No eyes turned toward the shallow groove in the cobblestone where an axe had struck.

On the wooden post of a nearby shop, a notice hung loosely from a nail.

Kiaria stopped before it.

He read aloud.

"Vacant position. Wood chopper."

"Chop diligently. Chop in order."

"Reward: two catty of rice per day."

The paper stirred slightly in the breeze.

Kiaria smiled.

"Mu Long."

Mu Long stepped forward immediately.

Kiaria did not look at him. His gaze remained fixed on the wooden post and the notice hanging from it.

"Other than heads... and bones that refuse to break," Kiaria asked calmly, "have you tested your axe on anything else?"

Mu Long did not answer at once.

He studied Kiaria’s face.

Then followed the direction of his gaze.

The wooden post stood upright beside the shop entrance. Its surface was smooth. Fresh grain. Not worn by time.

Understanding reached him.

Oh! You want to play around. I will fulfill your wish.

He whispered to himself in mind.

He adjusted his grip on the axe and raised his voice deliberately.

"Patron," he said, loud enough for the surrounding stalls to hear, "I believe my axe has grown blunt. It has lost its sharpness. I have been waiting for a suitable opportunity to sharpen it."

The words spread.

Merchants turned their heads.

Whispers rose in uneven currents. Some customers stepped aside. Others pretended not to listen, yet their hands paused over goods.

From the elevated tavern across the road, movement began.

The building stood higher than the surrounding shops, constructed deliberately to command attention. Its wooden structure was polished and layered, rising in visible tiers. Decorative railings framed its balconies, and lanterns hung in measured alignment beneath extended eaves.

The doors opened.

A young woman stepped out.

Flower petals began to fall.

Not scattered wildly.

They descended steadily, one after another, drifting downward without wind.

Several attendants in pale orange-white robes hurried forward before her. They lowered their heads deeply. Then, in practiced coordination, they bent their bodies and extended their arms forward in pairs.

Hands layered upon hands.

Two lines formed.

A descending path made entirely of palms.

The tavern stood on raised ground above the street level. Stone steps existed beside it.

She did not use them.

She stepped onto the offered hands.

Her weight did not disturb their posture.

She descended slowly, measured, placing each step carefully upon living support.

The petals continued to fall straight down through open air.

The merchants watched openly now.

The whispers thinned.

Yet, Kiaria did not turn to face her.

His eyes remained on the wooden post.

Mu Long stood still, axe resting lightly against his shoulder.

Diala watched the descending figure.

Princess did not blink.

Ru and Yi shifted half a step behind Kiaria without speaking.

Attention on street narrowed.

The young woman reached Mu Long first.

She did not hesitate, nor did she slow when approaching him. Her fingers slid along the side of his axe as if admiring its craftsmanship. The metal reflected her face faintly.

Then, deliberately, she dragged her fingertip across the sharpened edge.

The cut opened instantly.

A thin red line split across her pale skin. Blood gathered, then began to drip from the tip of her finger onto the cobblestone.

"Aah—my delicate finger..."

Her voice rose just enough for the nearby merchants to hear.

She leaned forward into Mu Long’s chest as though losing balance.

Mu Long shifted one step sideways.

She fell.

Her body hit the ground lightly, robes spreading around her like loosened petals.

"Great One..." she said from the ground, raising her wounded hand toward him. Blood slid along her wrist, staining the pale fabric. "You are too hard on me. Please... be gentle."

Her fingers stretched toward him, asking to be lifted.

Mu Long did not move.

Around them, the street changed.

Whispers grew louder. Some merchants shook their heads openly. A man muttered about uncivilized travelers. A woman covered her mouth and frowned. Disapproval gathered like a slow-moving cloud.

Yet none of Kiaria’s companions reacted.

Kiaria looked at her.

"Proprietress," he said calmly, "your acting skill is poor."

The murmurs shifted again.

She stopped pretending to struggle. Slowly, she rose on her own, wiping the blood across her fingers as though it were nothing.

"Oh, Lord," she said with a small smile. "Your words hurt more than the blade."

She gestured lightly toward the elevated tavern behind her.

"This is my tavern. My people posted that notice. And do not be angry..." Her gaze lingered on Kiaria’s face. "I like angry boys."

Then she turned her eyes toward Diala.

"What if someone grows jealous?"

The street quieted slightly.

Diala smiled.

"You may try," she said softly. "But if you fail, your tongue will belong to me."

Her tone did not change.

It did not need to.

A faint tension passed through the nearby merchants.

Kiaria gently pulled Diala a step back.

"Dia," he whispered near her ear, "do not follow her pace."

Then he turned back to the woman.

"We do not have time to play with you..."

He stopped.

Just for a fraction of a breath.

As if reconsidering.

"Proprietress—"

"Do not call me that," she interrupted smoothly. "Call me Jiu."

"Then, Jiu," Kiaria said evenly, "how much to stay one day and night in your tavern?"

She lowered her gaze slightly, lashes casting shadows across her cheeks.

"Oh, Great Lord," she said softly, "how could I charge heroes like you?"

Inside her eyes, something sharpened.

Your soul will be enough. She muttered to herself.

Her smile did not change.

"You may stay freely. A night. Or forever. Payment is unnecessary."

"So that is the matter."

Kiaria began to circle her.

Slowly.

Neither threatening nor in a hurry.

Measured steps on cobblestone.

Jiu’s eyes followed him without turning her head at first. Then she pivoted slightly, tracking him. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

"Oh... Lord," she said with a faint laugh, "if you keep circling me like that, you will feel dizzy."

Kiaria stopped just behind her right shoulder.

"We will stay."

He stepped forward again so she faced him directly.

"No separate rooms. One room for all of us. A large one. If you do not have it, we leave."

The merchants listened carefully now.

Jiu’s smile deepened.

"What coincidence," she said. "We do have a dormitory."

Her eyes swept across the group, counting them slowly.

"I think... you were destined to honor my tavern tonight."

The petals had stopped falling.

But none of them had touched the ground.

"Then show us the way," Kiaria said calmly, "Let’s see what you are made of."