Chapter 15: His Holy Word
The approach to Tempest City was less like entering a civilization and more like walking into the gaping maw of a concrete leviathan.
As one of the four regional great cities dominating the lawless stretches of the Hudeii Desert, it wasn’t built on top of the dunes.
Instead, it was carved directly into the sheer, jagged cliffs of a colossal, hollowed-out canyon that naturally shielded its chaotic streets from the devastating desert sandstorms.
The entrance to the city was a massive, scarred iron gate hung between two monolithic stone pillars.
Flanking the gates were the enforcers of the city’s brutal hierarchy: elite, towering Orc warriors clad in crude, blood-stained iron plate armor, carrying jagged battleaxes that could cleave a drake in two.
Alongside them stood massive, rock-skinned Troll overseers, their glowing yellow eyes scanning the incoming merchants and slave caravans with hungry, predatory calculation.
The air within the canyon gates was suffocating, thick with the stench of roasted meat, stale ale, copper blood, and the omnipresent scent of dust.
Passing through the threshold revealed a sprawling, multi-tiered hive of cutthroat commerce.
The architecture was an aggressive, chaotic mishmash of styles—crude stone fortresses built by Orc warlords, high-walled slave pens overseen by ruthless Troll syndicates, and opulent, draped pavilions belonging to corrupt merchant guilds.
Strength was the only law that mattered here, and it showed on every street corner.
Black markets lined the lower rings, where rogue mercenaries, assassins, and black-market dealers bartered over stolen artifacts, forbidden magical scrolls, and bound, trembling beastmen captives.
But above the chaos of the Orcish war-bands and the greed of the Troll syndicates sat the true rulers of the oasis.
High above the lower slums, built onto the highest, most secure terrace of the canyon, was a grand, fortress-like palace carved from smooth black volcanic stone.
This was the seat of the absolute authority in Tempest City.
While the Trolls dominated the underground slave trade and the Orcs handled the city’s defense, the entire lawless hub was kept under a tight, iron fist by the ferocious Tiger-kin.
The current Mayor of Tempest City was a legendary, battle-scarred Tiger-man whose name alone caused even the most hot-headed Orc chieftains to lower their weapons in submission.
He governed the city not through laws or treaties, but through sheer, overwhelming tyranny and an unparalleled martial prowess.
Under his rule, the Tiger-kin acted as the supreme aristocrats of the canyon, patrolling the upper districts in gilded armor, their slit-pupil eyes looking down with absolute disdain at the weaker races groveling below.
For a slave caravan, entering Tempest City was the beginning of a living nightmare.
But for a rising False God and his fanatical vanguard marching from the wastes, it was the perfect playground for a slaughter.
"So you’re saying you want me to tell you everything about this world we live in?" Alisa asked. "Yeah, is there a problem?" Roy asked.
"Are you a retarded old man or something?" Alisa folded her arms. "Who in their right senses doesn’t know about this world?" she grumbled.
"Eh? Well you can say me," Roy smiled. "I already explained to you that I’m a wanderer, a servant of Varanus who travels around preaching to the world."
"I don’t have the luxury of learning about civilization," Roy sighed. "So just tell me, please," he begged, staring at her with his cute puppy eyes.
"Sure, if you’re that desperate," Alisa shrugged. "As you know, Tempest City is one of the four great cities in this desert."
"The other three are known as the southern region’s Rakasha City, governed by the powerful Eagle-kin beastmen; the western region’s Norona City is ruled by the Trolls."
"The biggest, which is eastern region’s Yeren City, is controlled by a four-clan system of Shark-kin beastmen, Leopard-kin beastmen, Hawk-kin beastmen, and Rhino-kin beastmen." Alisa paused, "It’s said to be the safe haven for beastmen to thrive."
"While this cursed city is the land of slave trade. The rulers of the north and the lawless city of Tempest," she growled, "That is all."
"I see," Roy lingered, "So that means in the Hudeii Desert, the beastmen race thrive, right?" he asked.
Roy also learned that the crimson wolf-men are just a simple breed of wolf-kin. In this world also exist long-eared wolf-men, blue-furred wolf-men, one-eyed wolf-men, and many more.
Over twenty different species of wolf-men; the same is applied to other beastmen races.
All scattered across the ten continents. Only a portion exists in the Hudeii Desert.
"Yes," Alisa smiled, "We sure do rule this desert, but it seems the Orcs, Ogres, Trolls, and Goblins are united against us."
"A coalition under the Troll King. They’ve been ambushing independent tribes of beastmen; the captured survivors like me were turned into slaves."
"But to think the Tiger-men support them." She clenched her fist, "If I had the power, I’ll make them suffer for what they had done to my people."
"Is that so?" Roy stared at her, his eyes void of emotion. "What if I say there’s a chance for you to grow stronger?"
"Are you willing to sacrifice yourself for that power?" Roy questioned. Alisa turned to face him, "Really?"
"Is there really a chance for me to grow stronger?" she asked. "Even if I have to sacrifice my soul to obtain the power to destroy those filthy savages..."
"I’ll do it!" Roy lingered; he could see the determination in her eyes. His lips twitched for a second. "Alisa," he called.
"Yes?" Alisa answered.
Roy closed his eyes, with his arms folded, "The God I serve is benevolent to beastmen but wicked to their oppressors."
"Pray to the God of Beasts, Varanus, and he’ll give you the power you seek!" Roy stretched his right arm.
"The God of Beasts, Varanus?" She gulped, swallowing her saliva. "Yes," Roy answered.
"Lord Varanus is ancient, a primordial who once existed in an era beyond the true gods. He’s the protector of all beastmen."
"Pray to him and you shall have the power to crush even the Troll King!" Roy declared.
"I-I...." Alisa stuttered. "I can tell you’re strong after handling those Lizardmen, but I want to ask..."
"Have you been wronged by Tempest City that you’ve made up your mind to destroy it?" she asked.
"What do you think?" Roy grinned, "Few days ago, a pack of my crimson wolf-kin was left in ruins by gray-skinned ogres."
"They accepted my god and he bestowed their alpha the power to crush those filthy ogres," Roy explained. "But no..."
"I have not been wronged by Tempest City. I’m a wanderer who does not care what happens even to my fellow crimson wolf-kin," he sighed.
"Huh?" Alisa’s brows furrowed, "Then why are you doing this?" she asked.
Roy chuckled, "I’m here simply because he decreed it," Roy answered.
"He?" Alisa’s eyes widened in shock.
"Yes," Roy nodded, "Lord Varanus has set his sights on Tempest City. And I’m here to bring it to ashes."
"Anyone who threatens the lives of his beloved children must be destroyed."
"That is his holy word!"
