Machina Arcanis: Two Worlds Collided -
Chapter 107. Market Ground
The crows cawed in the distance as they fluttered across the dawnbreak. Sunlight began to stretch across the horizon, gradually brightening the sky.
Suddenly, a portal tore open above, and Zetius plummeted ten metres toward the ground.
“Holy Gaia!” he shouted as the buildings grew rapidly closer, the wind whipping around him. Quickly, he thrust his hands downward. “Empyrion!”
Flames burst from his fingertips, propelling him upward and slowing his descent.
“Just like the Armatus thrusters!” he thought with a grin.
But gravity pulled again.
“Alright, I’ll time it properly!” Zetius muttered, glancing below. The marketplace was already bustling, filled with people bargaining for the best deals of the day.
Just three metres from the ground, he aimed at an open space.
“Empyrion!”
A blast of fire surged from his fingers. “Steady~!” he commanded.
Then—Nothing.
His mana ran out mid-flight.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Zetius screamed at the top of his lungs as he plunged straight into a canopy overhead.
The canvas wrapped around him, cushioning his fall, but his impact ripped the fabric from the frame.
He crashed into a fruit cart, sending bananas, apples, and oranges flying in every direction.
“Ahhhhhh,” he groaned, winded and in pain. The stall owner shouted at him in fury, but Zetius was too dazed to understand the words.
Acting on instinct alone, he bolted, the torn canvas his only source of modesty.
“Where the heck am I?” Zetius thought, sprinting past the crowd, who stared at him in disgust.
He turned sharply into a narrow street and slammed face-first into something solid. He bounced off and fell backward into the mud.
“Aww~ Give me a break!” he groaned, unaware of the two towering figures looming above him.
“Oi! You fleshbag!” A moustached warden in a blue uniform barked.
“Caused a right mess, haven’t you?!” The bald warden said with a grin.
“It~it was an accident, for crying out loud!” Zetius blurted, scrambling to his feet and adjusting the canvas.
“Boyo! You’re coming with us!” the moustached warden lunged at him.
Zetius sidestepped, dodging the tackle. The warden lost his balance and faceplanted into the mud.
“Hehe! Sucker,” Zetius muttered, but his victory was short-lived. The other warden grabbed him in a headlock and slammed him against the wall.
“Shut your trap, freshbag!” the bald one snarled, pressing his weight against him.
The warden began patting him down with his free hand. “Got any weapons on you?” he asked sternly.
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“Ah! Get your hand off my penis!” Zetius yelped, twisting out of the headlock. He kicked off the wall, sending them both crashing into the mud.
He wrestled fiercely with the two men, mud and grime smearing over his skin and canvas. Slippery as an eel, he wriggled free of their grasp.
“Don’t you dare run away!” one of them yelled as Zetius sprinted off.
He darted through the narrow alleys and turned hard to the left. Rows of backdoors lined either side.
His heart thundered in his chest, breath ragged. “Bloody hell… this has got to be the worst rebirth ever.”
“This way!” a voice whispered from a slightly ajar door.
Zetius hesitated for a heartbeat, then slipped through.
Inside the dim room, a woman and a young girl stood in tattered clothing. Slave circlets were fastened tightly around their necks.
“Thanks for saving me,” Zetius said, catching his breath with his hands on his knees.
He scanned the small, rundown room. It looked like living quarters tucked behind a shopfront.
The woman, likely in her late twenties, stepped into the light. Her long dark blue hair draped across her pale face. She walked with a limp — signs of malnutrition and abuse were evident. From a quick glance, Zetius reckoned she must’ve been beautiful once. After all, life hadn’t been kind to slaves.
“It’s fine, kid,” she said, hands clasped at her chest.
“Kid?” Zetius frowned, but let it slide. “Ah… I’m not the ol’ Jack anymore,” he thought to himself.
Beside her was a girl, around ten years old, with similarly long hair and dark eyes. Unlike her mother, she wasn’t as thin.
She approached him cautiously. “What’s your name?” she asked, peering up at him. He recognised the voice — it was she who had called him in.
Zetius crouched down to her eye level and smiled. “Zetius, but my friends call me Zeta. What about you?”
The girl glanced at her mother, who gave a nod of approval.
“I’m May, and this is my mum, Cintia,” she replied, flashing a bright smile.
A smile that seemed to pierce through the darkness of this world — a defiant light against everything, against all odds.
Rising to his feet, Zetius bowed slightly. “Miss Cintia, I truly appreciate the asylum, but I fear I shouldn’t trouble you further.”
As he turned to leave, fingers brushing the doorknob—
“Wait! Zetius, at least clean yourself up and get dressed first. You won’t get far, half-naked like that,” Cintia rationalised.
“Is that really okay, Miss Cintia?” Zetius asked, surprised. “I’m a complete stranger, but you’re still willing to help?”
May whispered something into Cintia’s ear, making her giggle.
“Well, May thinks you’re cute and polite,” Cintia said with a calm smile. “If you don’t have anywhere to go…”
Zetius looked at May in surprise. She blushed and hid behind her mother.
“I actually don’t have anywhere to go. Something went wrong with the portal—”
“Oh! So you’re the portal boy who fell from the sky and crashed into a fruit cart! I knew it!” Cintia clapped lightly, her face lit with amusement.
“News really travels fast in this corner of the world… Portal kid, huh? I’m not that young, am I? Killed at sixteen, lived two years as Jack, so technically I’m eighteen… Maybe it’s the face. Who knows… Life’s complicated,” Zetius’s thoughts spiralled.
Cintia’s soft laughter pulled him back to reality.
“You seem to be deep in thought, Zetius. So… you’re an arcanist, huh? People say you used fire magic before landing too.”
Zetius nodded with a shy smile. “Well, I’d probably be considered a Novitcius mage if I re-enrolled at the Arcana Institute.”
“Mother, isn’t it great? We can trust an arcanist, right? Since Zeta’s one of them,” May said, her voice brimming with innocence.
Zetius couldn’t help but respond thoughtfully.
“Arcanists are still people. They can be corrupted just like anyone else… Though the old tales painted them as heroes who fought evil and restored peace.”
May nodded, brushing her lips.
“By the way, may I ask — where are we?” he added.
“North of Porand!” May beamed.
“The town’s called Lilybend, Zetius,” Cintia added.
As he was about to ask another question, Cintia raised a finger.
“Let’s talk more after you’ve cleaned up. You’re… basically dripping with mud,” she pointed out, eyeing the trail he left on the floor.
“Ah! I’m so sorry about that!” Zetius exclaimed in embarrassment, making May giggle.
“Come now. The bathroom’s that way,” Cintia said, gesturing toward a door on the left.
“Thank you,” Zetius replied as he tiptoed across the floor, off to clean himself up.
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