Reaching The City, A Soon To Be Bad Night Rest

/////1.8 Kilometers Of Exhausting Journey/////

"Huff, huff, huff."

Weary and mentally drained, Vincent, a Migas, trudged forward, feeling the toll it was taking on his physical body. Normally, as a Migas, he wouldn't have grown tired from such a distance. However, the recent events had left him mentally fatigued.

Right now, Vincent was on the brink of passing out, but the prospect of avoiding potential death urged him to press on.

After what seemed like an eternity, Vincent caught sight of the promised land, not far off in the distance. The silhouettes of buildings began to take shape, accompanied by a queue.

"Huh," he muttered to himself. "Why is there a queue?"

Finally, Vincent reached the extended line, leading up to a guard office beside an open gate, surrounded by six soldiers.

It appeared that people needed a specific ID to enter the city, and Vincent deduced that those without it would have to purchase and register for one.

But there was a problem—he was currently broke, with most of his money left behind at home. Just as the panic started to settle in, the System came to his rescue.

"Don't worry about your saved money; I have already collected everything for your use," the System reassured him.

"Really? You're a lifesaver. But wait, where do you keep the money?" Vincent inquired.

"Well, in the Inventory," the System replied.

"I thought you said there was no inventory," Vincent retorted.

"For you, there isn't. However, I have a fully equipped inventory," clarified the System.

"Why can't I use it then? Aren't you created to help me?" Vincent asked, slightly frustrated.

"Correction: I was made to help you grow stronger, not to assist you in every aspect of your life. Withholding an inventory is not a breach of that purpose. It's more of a benefit, as it will motivate you to understand the space laws and create your inventory," the System explained.

"Hence, I have no obligation to provide you with an inventory," it concluded.

"I can't argue with you when you're right like this," Vincent weakly mumbled.

Deciding to remain silent, Vincent waited for his turn. After standing under the scorching sun for what felt like an eternity, it was finally his chance.

He stepped forward towards the gates and was directed by a guard to the adjacent guard office.

Inside, the guard proceeded to ask him a series of questions.

Having already used his Illusion skill to conceal his true appearance and change his race and face, Vincent was prepared to answer.

"What's your name?" the guard inquired.

"Vincent Cadmean," Vincent replied.

"Race?"

"Migas."

"Breed?"

"Half Lion."

"Age?"

"16."

"Father's Name?"

"None available."

"Mother's?"

"..."

"Mother's?" the guard repeated.

"None."

The guard winced a little. "My condolences."

"Don't worry about it," Vincent responded.

Nodding in acknowledgment, the guard continued, "To enter, an ID will be issued to you, but it costs 100 silvers."

"If I remember correctly, 100 bronze equals 1 silver, 100 silver equals 1 gold, and 1,000 gold equals 1 platinum," Vincent thought. "So, 100 silvers should be 1,000 bronze. Since I don't understand the value of money, I can't say whether this is expensive or not."

About to use the money stored in the system, Vincent remembered a skill that would come in handy in this situation: [My Illusions Are the World's Reality].

"Illusion," he murmured.

Caught in Vincent's illusion, the guards and everyone within a 100-meter radius believed that he had paid the money, and they handed him the ID.

He would later need to obtain a permanent visa to be recognized as a citizen, but since he wouldn't be staying for long, he figured he could avoid that process. With the ID in hand, Vincent entered the city.

As he walked through the bustling streets, Vincent was captivated by the beauty of the buildings, a blend of medieval and modern elements—a true representation of another world.

What surprised him, even more, was how the crowded streets flowed seamlessly, with no accidents occurring. It was as if the people possessed some sort of heightened instincts, avoiding collisions effortlessly.

Shaking off his idle thoughts, Vincent focused on finding an inn where he could stay for the day or longer. He decided to approach a stranger and ask for directions.

Although some ignored him, luck was on his side, and an old man eventually came to his aid, providing directions and even leaving him with some silver coins.

Vincent felt perplexed, but upon looking at his half-naked state, he realized that his shirt had vanished during the bloodline purification.

Dismissing the oddity, Vincent entered the inn and requested a room. Initially, it felt awkward—a half-naked man seeking accommodation—but the innkeeper assigned him a room, and Vincent hurried to it, ignoring the curious gazes directed his way.

As he entered his room, he joyfully leaped onto the bed, a blissful expression on his face.

"Ah, bed... so soft... sweet... like a marshmallow bed," he exclaimed.

"At last, we are finally together," he continued, speaking to the bed.

/////In Heaven/////

Uriel sat among his fellow Angels in a solemn council meeting. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily upon them, as it marked only the third time in the history of heaven that they had gathered in such a manner.

The first occasion was during the fall of the Morning Star, a tale left for another time. The second was the star's rebirth, a significant event in its own right. And now, they faced the third.

Addressing the assembly, Uriel commenced the meeting, capturing everyone's attention.

"Today, we have gathered here because a grave incident has befallen heaven," he began, his voice resolute.

Silence filled the room, with the Angels urging Uriel to continue, their curiosity piqued.

"At exactly 11 AM, we lost sight of the successor," Uriel revealed, causing gasps and murmurs to ripple through the assembly. Peculiar stood frozen in place, his mind reeling.

"Vincent... my son," he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of concern and longing.

Raphael, seeking a plan of action, asked, "What are we going to do now?"

"I am considering seeking the aid of the Heavens System to reveal his location," Uriel replied, contemplating his next move.

"Mmh, that's a great idea. Proceed," Azazel chimed in, showing his support.

With the course decided, Uriel took a deep breath and prepared to act.

"Okay, I'll begin now," he declared, his voice steady.

Chanting a series of incomprehensible words with lightning speed, Uriel concluded the chant with a powerful invocation of [The Word].

As his voice subsided, the heavens themselves trembled, and a commanding voice filled the room.

"What do you ask of me, Son of my creator?" the mighty Heaven's System intoned, its presence awe-inspiring.

"The mighty Heavens System, created by my father, I beseech you to reveal the location of my father's successor," Uriel entreated, his voice resolute.

The room fell into a hushed silence, anticipation thick in the air, waiting for the Heavens System's response.

...

...

...

...

...

"No."