City of Kum
A month had passed.
Despite the devastation of the beast tide, Kum had long since returned to its former splendor, or at least they tried to. The city was a marvel of magic and technology. In this place towering structures of polished stone and shimmering metal stretched toward the sky, their surfaces etched with glowing runes that pulsed like a heartbeat.
Wide streets bustled with citizens, the air thick with the scent of fresh bread from corner bakeries and the faint hum of hovering transport platforms gliding overhead.
For the ordinary people, life went on. The beast tide was a terrifying memory, but memories faded, and Kum had endured.
The elites, who had remained far from the conflict, continued their lavish lifestyles, while businesses and workers rebuilt what had been lost.
For Alex, this month had been... peaceful.
….
Alex had no plans, no objectives, no schemes.
He had chosen the same luxury hotel he first stayed in—a high-rise building of obsidian and gold, its interior draped in silk tapestries and enchanted lanterns that cast a soft, warm glow.
The suite he occupied was excessive even by noble standards: a grand bedroom with a king-sized bed that felt like a cloud, a personal balcony overlooking the city's skyline, and a marble bath infused with aromatic healing essences.
And yet, despite all the decadence, his daily life was... spartan.
Alex would wake well past sunrise, stretch lazily, and get dressed casually—just another young man among the sea of people. He blended in, moving through the bustling streets with hands in his pockets, his expression relaxed but unreadable as he made his way out of the elite section to common area of the city.
Street vendors called out, selling skewers of spiced beasts meat, bowls of steaming broth infused with beast parts, and exotic fruits that glowed faintly under the city lights. Enchanted screens displayed news bulletins, and though he ignored most of them, he couldn't escape the murmurs of worried civilians.
"The battle should've ended in few days...Why did it take so long?"
"Millions are dead, and the Clans are silent."
"The Patrician should have done more!"
Alex didn't react. He wasn't interested.
He found a quiet café, ordered the most decesant black coffee, and sat near the window, watching people live.
He explored the city at his own pace.
Some days, he dined in high-end restaurants with elite, where the floors were polished so perfectly they reflected the chandelier light above. He tried exotic dishes, each prepared with ingredients that could only be found in the domains of powerful clans—flame-grilled spirit fish, sky-honey drizzled over enchanted pastries, beast wine that tingles on the tongue like static electricity.
He booked an expensive room to eat in.
Nyxara, often in her miniature feline form, lounged on the restaurant table, eating right from a plate without shame that was served to her.
"This is life," she purred one evening, stretching lazily after finishing an entire steak. "No fighting, no blood—just luxury. We should stay here forever."
Alex chuckled, tossing a small piece of meat her way. "You just like getting spoiled."
"Obviously."
She caught the bite mid-air and chewed contentedly, her silver eyes glowing faintly under the candlelight.
….
One night, on a whim, Alex walked into a grand theater—an architectural masterpiece blending modern design with ancient enchantments.
Glowing holographic posters floated above the entrance, advertising the latest films: epic romances, thrilling adventures andlarger-than-life fantasy sagas. The air smelled of buttered popcorn and caramelized nuts and the distant hum of enchanted projectors filed the space.
He picked one at random.
Inside the dimly lit auditorium, he sank into a plush, reclining chair, surrounded by whispering civilians and excited children munching on snacks. The movie was nothing serious—just a lighthearted fantasy story about a young hero traveling through mystical lands, meeting strange creatures, and facing destiny.
For two hours, he sat there, drinking a cold beverage, eating popcorn, and getting lost in a story that had nothing to do with war, death, or revenge.
He even smirked at certain scenes, not out of mockery, but genuine amusement.
When the credits rolled, he stretched, letting out a small sigh before stepping back into the neon-lit streets.
Nyxara yawned, blinking up at him from his shoulder. "I liked that. We should do this more often."
Alex said nothing to the statement but his faced said it all that he literally enjoyed himslef.
….
Days slipped away, and yet, Alex did nothing.
He continued his routine—sleep in, eat well, wander aimlessly. The city pulsed with life and people continued their routines. Even though whispers of the war's devastation never truly faded, they were easy to ignore.
For the first time in a long time, he was just another face in the crowd.
No revenge. No bloodshed.
It's just a man enjoying a vacation.