Unkempt, grimy, and dressed in rags, Langlibaitiao finally caught sight of the towering city walls in the distance.
"I finally made it—Northwind Keep."
Tears welled in his eyes.
These past few months had been an uphill battle, yet against all odds, he hadn't died once. First, he had been knocked unconscious by a wooden club wielded by a tribe of hill giants on the fringes of the Storm Heights, who captured him to store as winter rations. Just as he was about to be roasted alive, he used his rogue's Sleight of Hand proficiency to slip his bonds, then made his escape using Blur.
Out of the frying pan and into the fire, however, road-robbing half-orcs immediately locked eyes on all his gear. They stripped him bare, took him as a slave, and forced him to toil in the mines for over a month. Only recently had he managed to escape and make his way to Northwind Keep.
Recalling those miserable ordeals, Langlibaitiao gritted his teeth.
"This time in Northwind Keep, I'm definitely making a name for myself!"
Scores of guards patrolled the city gates, their chests bearing the insignia of a crossed eagle and sword—the Shield of the Eagle, Northwind Keep's garrison and guardians of order for the Principality of Lakeman. Because the realm was on war footing, every traveler entering the city had to undergo inspection and interrogation.
People flowed back and forth—merchants driving wagons, travelers hurrying along their way.
Langlibaitiao pulled his hood low and stayed close to the crowd, hoping to slip through unnoticed.
Yet a spear barred his path.
"Halt!"
"Five silver coins to enter the city."
Langlibaitiao froze. Where was he supposed to get money? Everything he owned had been stripped away by the half-orcs long ago. Even this hooded robe had been pinched from some passing merchant caravan on the road. He was dirt-poor, without a single copper to his name.
With that in mind, a fawning smile spread across his face.
"My lord, I was robbed of all my coin outside the walls. I'll just head back..."
The guard glared at him coldly, leveling the spear tip straight at his nose and barking, "Then how do we know you're an actual resident? Don't even think about sneaking through!"
The smile on Langlibaitiao's face instantly collapsed. He turned to leave in dejection, only to be stopped again.
"Halt!"
"My lord, is there something else?"
"Who said you could leave? What if you're a spy?"
Langlibaitiao was ready to burst into tears.
Was there no law left in this world? They wouldn't let him in, and they wouldn't let him leave. What on earth was he supposed to do?
He briefly considered taking a gamble and casting Blur to make a run for it. But on second thought, he had gone through sheer hell to reach this place. The moment he popped Blur, he would cement his status as a spy. If he got turned into a pincushion by spears and sent back to the respawn point, wouldn't all the misery he had endured along the way be for nothing?
His haters would mock him relentlessly. Taunts like "Why is the Lang-beast back?" and "Welcome home, Lang-beast!" were already flashing through his mind.
At that thought, the usually reckless, death-defying Langlibaitiao clamped his jaws tight and resolved inwardly:
*Fine, I'm staying right here! Even if they arrest me and drag me in, that still counts as getting inside!*
This time, he really wasn't going to seek his own death!
Langlibaitiao began casually striking up conversation with the guards.
"My lord, lovely weather today, isn't it?"
"Have you eaten yet?"
"That uniform looks mighty sharp on you!"
The guards gave him the cold shoulder, merely continuing to round up vagrants and beggars trying to slip past. Before long, more and more people were gathered beside him.
Soon, another squad of guards arrived.
The group of vagrants was handed over to this squad for escort, and at long last, they passed through the gates of Northwind Keep.
Inside, traffic buzzed and the city seemed rather bustling, but the vagrants were marched down an obscure alleyway, following a secluded path.
Confused, Langlibaitiao asked, "Where are we going?"
"Hey, why aren't you saying anything?"
The squad captain leading the march didn't even turn his head, treating him like he was already dead.
As the group ventured deeper, the surrounding atmosphere grew increasingly grim. Finally, Langlibaitiao spotted a sizeable stone building ahead. A faded, battered wooden sign hung above the entrance: *Refugee Shelter*.
The area was enveloped by dense, gloomy woods, deserted and devoid of passersby. Apart from the guards stationed outside the shelter, there was only their group of vagrants.
*Don't tell me this is another sweatshop...*
Langlibaitiao couldn't help shivering.
He followed the vagrants into this so-called "shelter."
All around were rust-covered iron cages, often smeared with congealed, blackened blood alongside uncleaned stains of urine and feces. The air reeked heavily of blood mixed with cold iron.
Langlibaitiao was led deeper underground and locked inside an iron cage.
"Where is this?"
"What the hell..."
In the gloom, lamplight flickered.
He glanced around and saw emaciated, pale humans locked inside the neighboring cages.
All of them were clad in rags, their skin-and-bone bodies coated in filth. Some curled up, others lay sprawled on the cage floor. A single narrow cage held over ten people, from which faint, rustling sounds emerged.
They hardly looked human anymore—more like livestock waiting for slaughter. Or rather, that was precisely what they were.
After a moment's hesitation, Langlibaitiao asked in a hushed voice, "Hey, do you know where this is?"
"Do you know how to get out?"
Predictably, he received no answer.
Instead, the gaunt "humans" all turned their heads toward him in unison. In the dark, their pupils gleamed with an eerie crimson light, their gazes practically sizing him up like food.
"Holy crap, if you don't want to answer, just don't answer! No need to look at me like that!"
Langlibaitiao jumped in fright.
"Food..."
"Blood..."
"I want blood!"
"I'm going to drain you dry—!"
*Clang! Clang! Clang!*
The "humans" gripped the iron bars, rattling them violently. They pressed their faces so hard against the cages that red furrows were gouged into their flesh.
Yet they paid it no heed. Their sunken, haggard faces twisted in mad frenzy, like travelers dying of thirst in a desert catching sight of water, overflowing with primal hunger and desire.
Watching their ravenous, desperate stares, Langlibaitiao furrowed his brow.
*Are these vampires?*
*I didn't expect to find creatures like this here. Could it be—*
*Tap, tap, tap...*
Rhythmic footsteps echoed from the far end of the corridor, drawing closer.
The surrounding blood thralls instantly fell silent, trembling all over like wild beasts cowering before their natural predator.
"Truly disgusting vermin."
A chilly female voice rang out.
A noblewoman in an elaborate, heavy gown approached at an unhurried pace. Her complexion was pale, and her delicate face bore undisguised disdain for the "beasts" around her.
"Lady Alexia, this is the one," the attendant guard beside her said, bowing respectfully and pointing toward Langlibaitiao.
Chapter 99