School Transmigration: I, Chosen as the Saint by Dragons at the Start-Chapter 96 --The City of Endless Ghosts

"Scout the way?" Boyd’s expression darkened further.

Those capable of entering Heartstealer Island were geniuses of their respective races, naturally intelligent.

As Owen walked forward, he reassured, "It’s actually a good thing they used you for scouting. Soon, they’ll all come down, and then we’ll be safe."

Boyd followed Owen closely, looking around: "Why does this place look so much like the scenery outside the mountains of Heartstealer Island?"

He pointed at a hill in the distance, "That hill over there exists outside the Heartstealer Island mountains too."

A flicker of insight crossed Owen’s mind, like something brushing past, but it was fleeting, and he couldn’t grasp it.

"These must be illusions," Boyd muttered, perhaps because the quiet was too unsettling, "They all seem so fake."

"Hmm," Owen responded nonchalantly.

The two continued side by side, the stream gradually turning into a rapid, wide river about seven or eight meters across.

Owen murmured, "It looks like a moat."

"A moat?" Boyd seemed puzzled, "Where’s the city?"

Owen didn’t reply, walking along the riverbank to the west for another hour or so.

Then, the capital of the Luminous Ancient Kingdom appeared before them.

The ancient city was situated on a vast plain, its towering walls reaching into the clouds, majestic and imposing.

The walls were constructed of gigantic stone blocks, lined with arrow towers and beacon towers.

However, the city walls were deserted, eerily devoid of any people.

"Is this... Loka City?" Boyd exhaled sharply, his face filled with shock.

"Loka?" Owen furrowed his brows.

Boyd, pointing excitedly at the city, explained, "This is the capital of the Luminous Ancient Kingdom, the place where General Hope held his ground for thirty years. Do you know why there’s so little historical record of the Luminous Ancient Kingdom?"

Owen, not particularly interested in playing the straight man in this conversation, looked coldly at Boyd.

With an awkward smile and fiddling with his slender hands, Boyd said, "After General Hope’s thirty-year defense, Loka City mysteriously vanished. That’s why there are so few historical records about the Luminous Ancient Kingdom."

"Is that so?" Owen narrowed his eyes.

General Hope was a remarkable figure; having built the Luminous Ancient Kingdom, he would naturally wish for its legacy to endure, leaving behind records for posterity even if he couldn’t stay himself.

The idea of the capital city just disappearing seemed illogical.

Boyd looked up, murmuring, "Some say it was because General Hope failed to stop the Demon’s power, leading to the demise of Loka along with him. Others claim that General Hope released the Demon, affecting the entire Novalia continent, and Loka’s disappearance was to cover up his own guilt..."

"Anyway, there are all kinds of theories, but I never thought I’d see Loka with my own eyes today. This trip was really worth it."

The two continued towards the city gate. Standing beneath it were two figures from the sea race.

Quincy and Stanbeck.

A deep resentment welled up in Owen’s heart, but he approached them, feigning surprise, "How come it’s just you two? Where are the other sea folks?"

"Ambition Army has brought reinforcements, and Berkeley is using the magic array. He’s staying back to help fend them off," Quincy said, his face showing no emotion. "This is Ambition Army territory. You wouldn’t want to battle them here, would you?"

"What about my attendants and maidservants?" Owen asked again.

"Hmph," Quincy uttered a syllable from his throat, "Do you really think we need to lay hands on them? Every person is crucial in resisting the Ambition Army. Losing even one person adds to the danger."

After saying this, Stanbeck glanced at him but remained silent. Boyd, with a cold expression, pursed his lips, also choosing not to speak.

Owen sighed in relief.

As Quincy had said, as long as Finn and the others were useful, they wouldn’t be killed.

"By the way, how long have you been here?" Quincy inquired.

Owen pointed towards the path they had taken: "Four to five hours. It took us quite some time to walk all the way here."

"That’s impossible," Stanbeck said sternly, pointing at Boyd, "I came down just a few minutes after him, and I arrived at Loka first."

Owen’s heart skipped a beat, something was off. They all seemed to know the secrets related to the Luminous Ancient Kingdom, but his mind was a blank slate.

Quincy didn’t express any suspicion; instead, he pondered, "The four of us came down one after another, but we arrived here at different times. This means there’s something wrong with this space-time. It’s certainly not just a simple illusion."

"This is Loka, right? Owen and I didn’t encounter a single person on our way here," Boyd’s voice was small, like a primary school student standing in front of three menacing high school bullies.

Among Owen’s trio, Boyd couldn’t beat any of them.

Quincy remarked, "There’s no one in the city either. Stanbeck and I have already looked around."

Three sea folks and one dragon passed through the city gate, entering a large square.

It was a bustling market with various stalls and shops lining the streets.

Owen observed the wide array of goods, all appearing brand new, as if just displayed.

However, the streets were eerily deserted, resembling a ghost town.

"It seems the era we are in predates the disappearance of Loka, maybe even by a significant margin," Owen said, surveying his surroundings and deliberately sharing the information gathered from Boyd.

He had to do this, to make Quincy and Stanbeck wonder whether Owen knew relevant details.

When information was unequal, so were the relations between individuals of different races.

They crossed the square, where a black protodragon totem stood, its figure ferocious and imposing.

Quincy paused to gaze at it: "Though times are different, the city’s faith remains the same."

General Hope’s faith was in the black protodragon, also the guardian beast of the Luminous Ancient Kingdom.

Not far from them was a row of houses, with inns and various residences in the aftermath.

These details didn’t reveal much to the group.

Quincy led Owen and the others into a tavern.

Naturally, it lacked the luxury of the Laine Kingdom, even a bit dilapidated, but filled with a sense of antiquity.

The tavern had only six or seven tables, chairs haphazardly arranged, with three of the tables still having peanuts and cups with leftover wine.

Owen, stroking his chin, said softly, "These chairs seem to have been used recently. It’s as if something sudden happened, and people rushed out of the tavern in a hurry, knocking over the chairs in the process."

Quincy nodded, "Well said."

Owen approached the counter and noticed a ledger with accounts written in it.

The latest entry was the character for "wine," but it was unfinished, the goose feather pen tossed aside, ink still showing wet traces.

Stanbeck tapped on the table, producing a "thud, thud, thud" sound.

"This is almost too realistic," he commented.

Boyd, acting as the spokesperson for the group, nodded in agreement.

Quincy casually picked up a cup from the table, still containing some leftover wine.

"Drink it!" he commanded.

Owen turned around to see Quincy holding the cup in front of Boyd, whose face squeezed into a pale smile.

"Sir," Boyd’s address had unconsciously changed, "who would dare to drink this?"

Quincy’s eyebrows knitted together: "Drink it!"

His expression was no joke, almost as if he was ready to draw his sword the next moment.

Without hesitation, Boyd took the cup and drank it all in one gulp. "Tch, it’s wine, but the taste is weak. Doesn’t seem like it was made by humans."

"Finish it," Quincy said firmly. He wasn’t just asking Boyd to wet his lips.

Boyd, with a pained expression and under everyone’s watchful eyes, drank down the remaining wine.

"I’ve finished, nothing’s wro... ah, my stomach hurts!" Boyd clutched his belly, putting down the cup, and darted out.

Owen glanced at the leftover wine on the table, his eyes flickering with thought.

Master-tier warriors, if not immune to toxins, were generally unaffected by most poisons.

Surprisingly, Boyd reacted immediately after drinking the wine.

It seemed more effective than a laxative!

Stanbeck gestured towards the outside with his mouth: "Go check if he’s dead."

Owen didn’t move.

Stanbeck frowned, looking at Owen.

Owen, in turn, gazed back at Stanbeck, his expression indifferent.

Stanbeck then realized that Owen was not his subordinate.

"You... just wait here," he said, throwing his hand up in irritation and stepping outside.

Boyd was the weakest among the four of them, followed by Stanbeck, who felt aggrieved.

Soon, Stanbeck returned, pinching his nose: "He’s not dead, just... it’s really stinky."

Owen chuckled internally, maintaining a cool exterior.

When Boyd came back, Quincy scrutinized his face: "You’re poisoned."

Boyd jumped in fright: "Sir, I don’t want to die. I still have so much of life to enjoy!"

Quincy replied irritably: "You’re not going to die. It’s just poison from the wine."

Owen’s eyes lit up as he finally grasped the insight that had eluded him. He now understood what was going on.

Stanbeck exhaled deeply: "Are you saying that all those endless ghosts we saw are the ones who lived in this city?"

Quincy, with a solemn look, affirmed: "That’s likely the case."