Nathan had seen plenty of cities before—both in this world and the last—but Everlock was something else entirely.
It wasn't just a kingdom. It was a colossus, an empire carved from ambition and sheer willpower, every stone and metal plate a reflection of its ruler's relentless drive.
The moment he and Rhea stepped out of the palace's medical wing, escorted by Kuromi's, the sheer scale of Everlock hit them like a crashing wave.
The main boulevard stretched far and wide, its roads not made of cobblestone like most cities but smooth, polished black stone, interlaced with glowing blue veins of magic that pulsed faintly beneath their feet. Every step carried a faint hum, as if the very streets were alive, feeding off the energy of the metropolis.
Towering skyscrapers lined the thoroughfare, their obsidian exteriors gleaming under the golden Everlock sun. These weren't just buildings—they were monuments to the kingdom's dominance, stretching so high that their peaks vanished into the misty upper skyline. Some of them bore enormous banners woven with gold and black, Everlock's insignia displayed like a declaration.
At the base of the city, a complex system of multi-leveled districts sprawled outward like veins from a heart, every sector dedicated to different aspects of society—commerce, military, trade, research, and industry. Nothing about Everlock was haphazard; it was designed, engineered for efficiency and control.
Unlike other cities where buildings piled on top of each other in chaotic clusters, Everlock was precise. Streets were wide and structured, accommodating horse-drawn carriages reinforced with mechanical enhancements, magi-tech transports gliding through the air, and a rail system threading through the city like an iron web.
The air itself buzzed with activity—the constant murmur of thousands of voices, the rhythmic clinking of gold coins exchanging hands, the booming of weapons being tested in distant training yards, and the occasional crackle of experimental magic firing off from research districts.
Everlock wasn't just a city.
It was a machine.
A kingdom built to last.
Rhea had never seen so much wealth in one place.
The market district stretched for miles, a labyrinth of grand merchant pavilions, massive trading hubs, and sprawling auction halls, each packed to the brim with rare materials, enchanted relics, and cutting-edge magi-tech.
This wasn't like Veyport, where traders clawed for sales, their voices rising in desperation. Everlock's economy ran like clockwork. There was no bartering, no last-minute haggling. Everything was structured, with regulated pricing, specialized trade permits, and designated trading hours.
The kingdom didn't just buy and sell.It controlled the markets.
Rhea paused at a weapons vendor, eyes widening at the sheer craftsmanship of the blades displayed.
Swords made of compressed lightning, daggers forged from moonstone, axes laced with gravity-altering enchantments, all tagged with astronomical prices that could feed an entire family for a year.
Nathan stood beside her, arms crossed, whistling low. "I always figured Kullen would get rich, but this?" He let out a breath. "This is next-level capitalism."
Rhea turned to the vendor, still awestruck. "Where do all these materials even come from?"
The merchant—a towering man with a mechanical arm—grinned as he polished a gleaming saber."The king's network spans far, miss. Everlock doesn't just trade with neighboring territories. We have dwarven forges, elven enchanters, desert merchants, and even oceanic traders from distant islands. If it exists in this world, Everlock can buy it."
Nathan scoffed. "Sounds about right. Money makes the world go round."
The merchant chuckled. "Not just money. Influence. Everlock doesn't just have the wealthiest economy—it dictates the markets. We control trade routes, set currency values, and even finance wars in distant lands."
That sentence stuck with Rhea.
Everlock wasn't just rich. It was the center of global commerce.
As they walked deeper into the city, the clean-cut merchant roads gave way to the industrial sector, a district so massive that the sky itself darkened from the smog and steam venting from colossal magi-tech factories.
Hundreds of workers in reinforced uniforms labored in these massive production halls, forging weapons, armor, and arcane constructs for Everlock's ever-growing military.
But the real monsters were the golems.
Titanic mechanized sentries, infused with arcane cores, patrolled the industrial yards, their glowing eyes scanning everything. These weren't just for defense—they were laborers, builders, enforcers. Machines designed to shape the future.
Nathan caught sight of rows of automaton soldiers, lined up like chess pieces in perfect formation. Their glowing visors flickered to life as engineers activated them, testing their responses.
He exhaled sharply. "That—" he gestured to the rows of lifeless metal warriors, "—is a lot of firepower."
Kuromi, who had remained silent for most of the tour, finally spoke.
"Everlock doesn't just survive. It prepares."
She gestured toward a massive rail system, where carts filled with weapons, armor, and supplies were being transported deeper into the city.
"His Majesty foresaw what's coming. A war is inevitable. Everlock is the only kingdom that will be ready."
Rhea frowned. "A war against who?"
Kuromi's expression remained unreadable.
Nathan narrowed his eyes. "You don't build this much firepower just to defend yourselves. This is an expansion effort."
Kuromi turned to face him, her amber eyes piercing. "You sound like that bothers you."
Nathan shrugged. "Don't get me wrong, I like being on the winning side. But when a city like this gets too powerful, people either want in—" his expression darkened slightly, "—or they want to burn it down."
Kuromi held his gaze. "That's why Everlock doesn't just plan for war."
She pointed toward a massive tower in the center of the city, looming high above everything else.
"It ensures it wins."
By the time they reached Everlock's highest district, the grandeur was unmatched.
The palace wasn't just a castle.
It was a fortress suspended in the sky.
Perched atop obsidian pillars, the structure hovered, held aloft by massive enchanted gravity cores. Its walls were black steel, reinforced with golden etchings that shimmered faintly with power.
Hundreds of windows overlooked the capital, their glass like piercing eyes, watching everything.
The bridge leading up to the entrance was lined with Elite Guards, each clad in sleek, modified combat armor, lighter than traditional plate but reinforced with arcane circuitry.
Nathan let out a low whistle. "Well, damn. Kullen didn't just make a city—he made a damn empire."
Rhea didn't respond. She was too busy taking in the monumental display of power.
As they reached the palace gates, Kuromi turned to them.
"Your friend is awake," she said simply. "His Majesty is waiting for all of you."
Nathan and Rhea exchanged a glance.
"Guess that means we're finally getting some answers," Rhea muttered.
Nathan adjusted his coat, eyes sharp."Yeah."
His fingers curled slightly.
"And maybe a few more questions."
The massive golden doors creaked open, revealing the grand halls of Everlock's heart.
The massive golden doors groaned as they swung open, revealing the heart of Everlock's power—the throne room.
Nathan and Rhea stepped forward into an immense chamber, and the moment they entered, it became clear: this was not just the center of Kullen's rule.
This was his domain.
The architecture of the throne room was unlike anything they had seen before—a fusion of brutalist strength and intricate elegance, where every inch of the chamber screamed control, dominance, and wealth.
The floor was obsidian marble, polished so thoroughly that Nathan could see his own reflection in it. Gold-trimmed lines ran along its surface, not just for decoration, but circuitry, pulsing faintly with arcane energy, humming in the air like a quiet, ever-present whisper.
The walls were towering monoliths of black steel, embedded with glowing veins of deep sapphire and ember gold, forming intricate, shifting symbols—Everlock's crest, battle depictions, and an ever-moving timeline of its rise to power.
The ceiling stretched high, disappearing into darkness, its structure upheld by massive gold-plated pillars, each engraved with runes of power and protection. At the very center of the chamber, suspended like an artificial sun, a monolithic arcane core hovered—a massive sphere of condensed magic, flickering between gold, silver, and deep violet, feeding raw energy into the very heart of the palace.
There was no throne elevated above the rest. No detached god-king, watching from a distance.
Kullen's throne was at the center of everything.
It was a structure of pure, reinforced obsidian, its shape angular yet elegant, lined with runes of influence—not just an object of status, but a seat built for authority. Not ostentatious. Not gaudy.
Just power.
And seated upon it, dressed in his black and gold regalia, a single ring glinting on his finger, was Kullen.
"Now that everyone is here, let's get started."