The next morning, the students were free to explore Marlowe on their own, with guards discreetly trailing behind to maintain order. Excitement rippled through the group as they eagerly spilled into the streets, their chatter and laughter echoing down the cobbled lanes.
Clusters of students darted from one shop to the next, pausing to gaze at the glittering jewels displayed behind glass windows, marveling at bolts of luxurious fabric draped elegantly over stall counters, and inhaling the mouthwatering aroma of freshly baked bread from the bakeries.
The city itself seemed almost surreal in its perfection. The streets were immaculate—stone pathways scrubbed so thoroughly they gleamed under the sun, reflecting the light like polished marble.
The houses stood in pristine rows, freshly whitewashed with their shutters painted in vibrant hues of red, blue, and yellow, making the city feel like a postcard come to life.
The air was fresh, and every inch of the place seemed to exude an air of unblemished prosperity. People wandered the streets dressed in neat, well-fitted clothing, their faces adorned with easy smiles, giving the impression that the entire city was locked in an eternal celebration.
Pete walked proudly at the center, his chest puffed out with pride, Lord Halford waddling beside him, his permanent grin as wide as ever.
"You see, Sir Hero?" Halford said, his hand sweeping broadly toward the bustling avenues. "This is Marlowe. A jewel among cities, kept in perfect harmony under my guidance. Notice the cleanliness, the prosperity—every soul here prospers under my rule."
Pete's eyes sparkled, his enthusiasm matching Halford's. "It's incredible. I've never seen a city so… well, perfect. This is how every city should strive to be."
Behind him, Ace and Lucy trailed with their two master-ranked guards, keeping a deliberate distance.
Lucy's brows furrowed as she whispered, "Something feels off… Don't you think? I've been looking for workers, beggars, even just traveling merchants, but there's nothing. And all the clothes—don't they look brand new? Too perfect?"
Ace glanced at her briefly, then turned his gaze back to the orderly streets. His tone was quiet but firm. "You're right. In fact, everything you're thinking is true."
Lucy blinked, her confusion evident. "True?"
Before she could question further, one of the Thornevale guards leaned closer, his deep voice kept low. "The city lord ordered every worker and slave to stay out of sight during your visit. Even the slums were torn down. Those who lived there were thrown outside the city walls."
Lucy's heart skipped a beat as she processed the information. Her gaze shifted, taking in the flawless rows of houses, the well-dressed citizens strolling with light steps, and a deep unease settled in her stomach. "So… this city is just a show?"
Ace gave the faintest nod, unbothered. "A façade."
Around them, the other noble-born students began to murmur among themselves, their conversations growing quieter as they exchanged uneasy glances.
They, too, sensed the hollow emptiness beneath the surface. The gleaming streets, the picture-perfect citizens, it all felt too staged, too carefully orchestrated. They could see the puppeteer pulling the strings behind the curtain of illusion.
But Pete, still glued to Halford's side, seemed blissfully oblivious. He stopped to admire a fountain where clear water gushed into an ornate marble basin, clapping Halford on the shoulder.
"This is proof of your governance, Lord Halford! A city that thrives without poverty or strife. You should be proud."
Halford's smile deepened, though his eyes flicked warily toward Ace in the back. "All thanks to the blessings of heroes like you, Sir Pete. Marlowe is honored by your praise."
Ace, however, said nothing. His gaze remained fixed on the distant horizon, beyond the city's walls, where a thin plume of smoke rose faintly into the sky—a silent, cruel reminder of the people forced to live in exile, cut off from the very city that had once been their home.
The contrast between illusion and truth was as sharp as a blade.
Later that evening, after the tour wound down, the students gathered in the guest mansion arranged for them. The noble-born students sat together, still unsettled by the illusion they had walked through all day. Their hushed voices carried fragments of doubt—about the missing workers, the absence of beggars, and the far too convenient cleanliness.
Pete, however, sat with a grin on his face, recounting to Catherine all the wonders of Marlowe as if he had discovered paradise itself.
"This city is a model of order," he said brightly, leaning back with satisfaction. "If only other lords governed with such vision, poverty would be gone from the empire entirely."
Emelia, who had been quiet until then, finally spoke. Her golden-green hair shimmered under the lamplight as she leaned forward, her eyes fixed on Pete.
"Pete… don't you think it's strange?" she asked softly, careful with her words. "A city this size, yet not a single laborer, not one street vendor, no travelers at the gates. Doesn't it feel like something's missing?"
Pete blinked at her, then chuckled. "Missing? No, not at all. That's the brilliance of Lord Halford's rule. He's created balance—everyone prospers, so there's no need for beggars or slums."
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Prosperity doesn't erase the need for workers. Who cleans the streets? Who maintains the walls? Who builds?" She lowered her voice, her tone sharpening slightly. "It's too perfect, Pete. Perfect things don't exist."
Pete waved a dismissive hand. "You're just being paranoid. Sometimes, Emelia, you need to believe in people's better nature. Not everyone has hidden motives." His smile returned, brighter than ever. "This is proof that goodness works when given a chance."
Emelia fell silent, her brows furrowing as she looked down into her lap. Around them, Catherine shot her a warning glance as if telling her to drop it. Pete was stubborn when his mind latched onto something, and tonight was no different.
Across the room, Ace sat apart with Lucy, silently sipping his tea. He hadn't said a word during the exchange, but his faint smirk betrayed his thoughts. He knew exactly what Emelia had realized, and he also knew Pete's blindness would not break so easily.
Even in the novel, Pete was like this, once he sets his mind on something, he wouldn't change it.
The room settled into uneasy quiet. For Pete, Marlowe was a dream. For the others, it was a city of masks.
The next day in Marlowe was swallowed entirely by Lord Halford's celebration.
From the late morning, Pete had been escorted into the city lord's mansion's grand hall, where the feast began. Long tables bent under the weight of golden platters—meats dripping with sauce, fruits imported from distant provinces, and wines older than some of the students themselves.
But the food was not the main attraction.
One by one, Halford's business allies, lesser nobles, and wealthy merchants streamed into the hall. Each brought along a daughter, niece, or cousin, all dressed in their finest gowns, smiles carefully trained, voices sweet with flattery. Every introduction began the same:
"This is my daughter—she has long admired the hero's courage."
"My niece, Lord Halford insisted she not miss this chance to meet Solaria's champion."
Each bow and flutter of eyelashes seemed rehearsed, yet Pete accepted them with genuine delight. He laughed, blushed at compliments, and eagerly shook hands with every new face. His plate hardly emptied as the nobles kept him talking, raising their glasses to his name again and again.
Catherine was there too, seated near Pete, though her expression was strained. At first, she tried to intervene. But her words were drowned out by the clamor of voices praising Pete. Eventually, she sat back in silence, her eyes hard as Halford introduced yet another eager merchant's daughter.
Ace, Lucy, and Emelia were nowhere to be seen.
By evening, the banquet rolled on. Servants replaced dishes as fast as they were emptied, musicians played in the corners, and Halford himself never left Pete's side. He laughed the loudest at Pete's words, clapped him on the back, and made sure his every gesture was visible to the crowd. To the watching nobles, the intention was plain—Halford was staking a claim, trying to bind himself to the hero with chains of honeyed words.
Pete, however, saw only admiration.
As lanterns were lit and the music swelled, he leaned back in his chair, smiling at the circle of nobles and merchants who hung on his every word. "Lord Halford is right," Pete said warmly, raising his cup. "This city truly is a jewel of Solaria. I'll remember this day."
Halford's eyes gleamed.
And so the day was spent—not in training, not in exploration, but in endless toasts, introductions, and subtle schemes.
The next morning, the griffins were prepared for departure. Students gathered, bags packed, armor strapped on, eyes weary but alert. Pete, however, was the last to arrive, refreshed and smiling, waving as if he had achieved some great victory.
Behind him trailed Halford, beaming and bowing, his merchants at his back. "Safe travels, my honored guests! And to the hero—may fortune always shine upon you!"
The students mounted their griffins in silence, and soon the skies carried them away from Marlowe's polished streets.
At noon, the griffins landed in neat formation, dust swirling as the guards secured the perimeter. The students were led into a temporary base of tall, white tents, where tables had already been laid with fresh bread, roasted meat, and fruit.
As the others gathered, Sarena raised her voice. "Eat quickly. By evening, we'll reach Kelworth, our next stop."
Excited murmurs rose among the students, though the air was still marked by the stiffness left behind in Marlowe.
Ace and Lucy sat a little apart, sharing their meal in relative quiet.
After a few bites, Lucy leaned toward him, lowering her voice. "Why is no one telling Pete anything? Now that we're out of Marlowe, they could have said something… anything."
Ace didn't look at her. He tore off a piece of bread, eyes fixed on the horizon. "They won't. Not here."
"Why?" Lucy pressed, frustration flickering in her voice.
"Because they're all nobles," Ace said flatly. "All four cities we'll visit belong to dukes. Except us, those dukes belong to opposing factions, each one wants the same thing—favor from the hero. To them, calling out Halford's little farce in front of Pete would risk souring his impression. Why would they waste that chance? Their turn will come, and when it does, they'll want him smiling at their table."
Lucy frowned, her fork frozen halfway to her mouth. "…So they're just letting him be deceived."
"Exactly." Ace finally looked at her, eyes sharp. "They'll let him eat, drink, and laugh in every city we pass, so long as their faction gets their slice of him. That's politics. He's too blind to see it, and they won't enlighten him."
Lucy fell silent, her lips pressing together. She glanced at Pete, who was a few tents away, laughing loudly with Catherine and some of the other nobles.
By noon, the meal ended, and the griffins were prepared again. Students mounted up, and soon the skies opened to them once more. Forests blurred below, rivers shimmered like silver threads, and the afternoon sun painted the world gold.
Note from author- Hello guys, It's regrettable to inform you that this book has been rejected from contract.
But don't worry, I have created many chapters and will update this book daily if I can for two more weeks with one chapter each day.