Meanwhile, outside Elias' territory...
A group of thirty-three people stood silently outside the transparent dome. All of them looked battered and worn out. Two among them were so injured they couldn't even stand on their own—they had to be supported by others on both sides.
At the front of the group stood two men.
One of them had golden hair, the kind that once looked regal and neatly combed, but now it was messy and matted with blood. His noble-looking robe was torn in many places. Blood oozed from several cuts underneath the robe. Even in his miserable state, he still held himself with pride.
Next to him stood a tall, muscular man wearing rough, dented armor. The scratches and dents all over his armor showed signs of heavy battles. Unlike the golden-haired man, he had very few visible wounds, but the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth told a different story. His injuries were likely internal—possibly worse than the visible ones.
The rest of the group behind them stayed silent. Their faces were pale, and their clothes were ragged. They had clearly gone through a lot.
Still, hope lit up in their eyes as they looked at the dome barrier in front of them and the land it protected—Elias' territory.
The two men at the front stared at the territory with narrowed eyes.
"Finally," the golden-haired man muttered under his breath, his eyes flashing slightly. "A place to rest. It looks like a new territory... the dome is still active."
The armored man nodded. "Seems like the Lord is present too."
"Hmm. Do you think they'll let us in?" the golden-haired man asked.
"I'm not sure... but let's hope so," the armored man replied, frowning slightly.
Looking around the clearing, the only structures in sight were a small shack and a two-story building on the far end of the territory. There was no one else visible. That likely meant there weren't many people living here—if any at all. Whether they'd be allowed in or not was the real question.
Behind them, the rest of the group began to whisper quietly.
"Who lives there?"
"Do you think they'll let us stay?"
"What if they're nobles…?"
But the golden-haired man turned and shot them a glare so sharp, it shut them up instantly.
"Silence," he snapped. "Don't speak unless told to. If you attract suspicion, I'll gut the first person who opens their mouth."
His voice was cold—cold enough to freeze bones—and filled with unmistakable killing intent.
The group went dead silent. Heads dropped. Shoulders tensed.
"Y-yes... Lord Veran..." they all murmured at once.
Veran snorted and looked away.
Just then, the armored man beside him looked up. "He's here."
Veran turned his head—and sure enough, from within the shimmering dome, a figure was approaching.
He rode atop a massive dire wolf with glowing green eyes.
The man riding the beast was young, but there was a calm, confident aura about him. He wore a deep navy-blue tunic lined with silver threads, a black waist sash marked with a golden rune at the edge, and over it, a dark gray short mantle trimmed with blue. He had on plain dark pants and clean leather boots, giving off the air of dominance and confidence.
Behind him, a second man walked steadily, keeping pace. He wore armor and boots, with a hood and mask covering his face. His presence was sharp and dangerous—like that of an assassin. These two were, of course, Elias and Vael.
"Look, is that the Lord of the territory?" someone whispered.
"He's riding a wolf—so cool..."
"Is he a beast tamer?"
"No... look at the wolf's eyes. Maybe he's a necromancer?"
The group whispered in excitement. But that didn't last long.
Veran's icy gaze swept over them, and just like that, the whispers vanished—snuffed out like a flame in the wind.
The fear from just a single glance was enough to silence all of them.
Elias let out a small chuckle as he rode forward. "Riding on a beast like this is a great way to farm aura," he muttered to himself with a smirk.
This was good. A Lord needed pressure and presence. Without it, how would others respect or follow him?
Behind him, Vael spoke quietly.
"They're in bad shape... I wonder what they ran into."
Elias shrugged. "We'll find out soon enough."
Soon, they arrived before the dome, the shimmering barrier still separating them from the land inside.
Veran, still glaring coldly at the now-silent group, gave one final warning.
"Behave yourselves. Don't do anything foolish. If he suspects even the smallest thing... I'll kill every last one of you."
His voice was low and firm, filled with dangerous intent. The kind of tone that left no room for doubt.
The group flinched again, quickly bowing even deeper than before.
"Y-yes, Lord Veran..." they all answered in unison.
Just then, the armored man beside him turned slightly.
"He's here."
The group raised their heads.
Elias stopped in front of the dome, sitting tall on his dire wolf.
The moment the group laid eyes on him, they instinctively bowed deeply.
Even though they weren't citizens of the territory, it was custom and courtesy to show respect to a Lord within his domain.
"Greetings, my Lord!" they called out together.
Elias let out a soft chuckle. "Wow... being treated like this really does feel great," he muttered to himself.
His eyes calmly scanned over the group. "You all look pretty rough... Seems like you've been through a lot."
The armored man stepped forward politely.
"That's right, my Lord," he said, then hesitated before asking, "May I know your name?"
"Elias," he answered calmly.
The armored man blinked. "Elias...? That's quite the unusual name..." he muttered, but quickly bowed again. "Lord Elias."
Elias gave a small wave of his hand. "No need to be so formal. From the looks of things, you all need rest more than anything else."
Internally, Elias called out to Alia.
"Alia, let them in."
"[Yes, Master.]"
A soft shimmer passed through the dome as it pulsed gently, then parted slightly in front of him like ripples on the surface of water.
The armored man was visibly surprised. He hadn't expected the Lord to just allow a group of strangers into his territory without asking more questions.
Still, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he bowed again quickly. "Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Elias."
Elias smiled. "You're welcome. It's only right to help those who ask for it."
The armored man nodded with appreciation. "Lord Elias is truly generous."
Elias laughed lightly and asked, "Your name?"
"I'm Kael," the armored man answered. "A wandering swordsman, currently acting as a guard."
He then gestured to the golden-haired man beside him.
"This is Lord Veran, a merchant. The rest behind us are the workers and helpers from his caravan."
Elias' gaze shifted toward Veran once more.
Despite his wounds, Veran gave a thin smile and offered a shallow bow. "It's an honor to meet you, Lord Elias."
Elias nodded but said nothing right away.
His brows furrowed slightly as he looked over the group again, his eyes narrowing a little as they swept across each of them. After a brief pause, he asked calmly, "I'm curious... What exactly happened to all of you? Why are you in such a state?"