The Mad WarDragon of Greed.

Chapter 5: Unfamiliar World

Stravos returned to the group, his leather armour covered in dust and his breathing still slightly heavier than usual. The moment Gus noticed him approaching, the old merchant stopped what he was doing and looked past him toward the canyon.

“Where's the monster?” Gus asked, wiping his hands on his clothes as he stepped forward.

“Back there,” Stravos replied, pointing over his shoulder with a tired expression. “It won't be bothering anyone anymore.”

For a moment, nobody said anything, and the others exchanged uncertain glances. Caspian was the first to break the silence, looking Stravos up and down before asking, “Wait, you actually killed it?”

Stravos raised an eyebrow at him. “Did you expect me to bring it back alive?”

Caspian opened his mouth, then closed it again, apparently unable to find a suitable answer. Iris turned away with a small laugh, while Lila shook her head at the exchange and Soren continued studying Stravos with an expression that was difficult to read.

Gus, however, seemed more interested in seeing the evidence for himself. He walked past Stravos and headed toward the canyon, with the others following behind him despite their lingering exhaustion.

It didn't take long for them to find the corpse.

The enormous centipede lay across most of the passage, its segmented body twisted against the rocky walls while its countless legs sprawled over the ground. Only a narrow opening remained along one side, barely wide enough for travelers to squeeze through, and the sight immediately explained why the route had become so difficult to navigate.

Lila stopped beside one of the creature's legs and stared at its thick chitin. “You killed this thing with that sword?”

Stravos glanced at the iron weapon hanging from his waist before looking back at her. “I had claws too.”

The answer came so casually that Lila turned to look at him, but Stravos had already started walking toward the corpse. He wasn't about to explain how much of his strength he had concealed, especially when he still had no idea who might be listening.

Gus crouched beside the creature, examining the wounds before slowly rising to his feet. “Well, I'll be damned,” he muttered, turning toward Stravos with renewed interest. “You actually did it, young man.”

“I believe we already established that,” Stravos replied, brushing a little dirt from his sleeve. “Unless you were hoping I'd bring you a different centipede.”

Iris laughed, and even Caspian struggled to hide his amusement. Gus gave Stravos a long look before shaking his head, apparently deciding that the young man's mouth might become more troublesome than his fighting ability.

“Come on,” Gus said, gesturing for everyone to move. “We can't stand here all day, and I'd rather not explain to every traveler who comes through here why the road has turned into a monster graveyard.”

As they made their way through the narrow opening, Stravos glanced back at the corpse. The creature had been troublesome enough while alive, but its enormous body was now obstructing the very passage it had once used to attack travelers, and he wondered how long it would take before someone cleared it away.

Once they were safely beyond the canyon, Gus reached into his belongings and pulled out a small leather pouch. He tossed it toward Stravos, who caught it with one hand and immediately felt the weight of the coins inside.

“Your payment,” Gus said, adjusting the strap of his bag. “Ten gold coins, just as promised.”

Stravos opened the pouch and took out one of the coins, turning it between his fingers. The gold was genuine, but the symbol stamped on its surface was unfamiliar, and the more closely he examined it, the less he recognized the currency.

He turned the coin over before holding it toward the light. “What's this marking?”

Gus glanced at it. “Eldora's crest, of course.”

Stravos looked at him, then back at the coin. “Of course,” he repeated, slipping it into the pouch with a thoughtful expression.

Gus narrowed his eyes slightly. “You don't recognize the crest?”

“Should I?”

“It's on nearly every official coin in the kingdom.”

Stravos tied the pouch shut and tucked it away. “Then I suppose my memory is worse than I thought.”

Gus gave him a doubtful look but didn't press the matter. Stravos, meanwhile, couldn't help noticing the irony of his situation, because there had been a time when he possessed enough wealth to make entire kingdoms reconsider their ambitions, and now he was examining ten gold coins as though they were the beginning of a fortune.

Still, he wasn't going to complain. Ten gold coins were ten gold coins, and he had no intention of becoming sentimental about the past when the present offered him a chance to start again.

The group resumed its journey toward Eldora, and the conversation gradually returned as the tension surrounding the centipede's death faded. Stravos walked beside Gus for a while, studying the road ahead before looking down at the map the old merchant had tucked among his belongings.

“Gus, can I buy a map from you?” Stravos asked, glancing at him. “Preferably one that doesn't require me to ask where every road leads.”

Gus chuckled and reached into his bag. “You could have asked earlier, you know, instead of wandering around with that lost look on your face.”

“I was trying to enjoy the scenery.”

“What scenery?” Gus asked, looking around at the rocky landscape. “We've been walking beside stones and dead bushes for hours.”

Stravos gave him a mild smile. “You make it sound as though I should have been miserable because of my misfortune. Well, I chose not to.”

Gus shook his head, but he eventually pulled out a folded map and handed it over. Stravos paid for it from his newly acquired coins, then unfolded the parchment and began examining the markings, expecting to find a familiar arrangement of territories.

Instead, he found himself staring at eleven major kingdoms.

His steps slowed as he studied the map more closely, moving his finger across the borders before looking at Gus. “Why are there eleven kingdoms here?”

Gus glanced at the parchment. “Because there are eleven major kingdoms.”

Stravos gave him a flat look. “I can see that much, old man.”

“Then what exactly are you asking me?”

Stravos tapped one of the territories on the map. “There used to be one major kingdom here, not eleven.”

Gus looked at the map again, then back at Stravos, his expression shifting into something between confusion and concern. “You've really forgotten a great deal, haven't you?”

“That's what I've been telling you.”

Gus sighed and pointed toward the marked territories. “The world changed after the Heavenly Alliance War, about two hundred and fifty years ago. Once the war ended, the major species stopped living under the same political arrangement and began establishing their own kingdoms.”

Stravos kept his eyes on the map. “And nobody thought it would be better to keep everything together?”

Gus laughed at the question. “After a war that large, everyone wanted control over their own territory. The different races had spent years fighting together, but that didn't mean they suddenly agreed on how the world should be run.”

“That sounds familiar,” Stravos murmured, his fingers tightening slightly around the parchment.

Gus continued explaining that each major species eventually established its own kingdom, with its respective God serving as the ruler or highest divine authority. The new arrangement had survived for generations, and although disputes still occurred between kingdoms, the old alliance was no longer the force that held the world together.

Stravos listened without interrupting, his eyes moving between the borders. He had known that time had passed, but seeing the world divided into eleven kingdoms made the consequences of that passage far more difficult to ignore.

“What about Eldora?” he asked after a moment. “Who rules it now?”

Gus looked at him as though he had asked whether the sun rose in the morning. “The Merchant Guilds.”

Stravos turned toward him. “Merchants rule a kingdom?”

“They do a little more than sell things,” Gus replied, sounding mildly offended on behalf of his profession. “The guilds control trade, manage businesses, fund much of the kingdom's military, and maintain the routes that bring goods into the country. Without them, half the kingdom would struggle to keep its doors open.”

“So they control the money.”

“Among other things,” Gus replied, giving him a knowing smile. “And if you ever decide to do business here, you'll learn very quickly that money can make certain problems disappear.”

Stravos found himself smiling at that answer. He was beginning to like Eldora already, although he had no intention of telling Gus why, and he returned his attention to the map as another question occurred to him.

“Have you ever seen a Dragon?”

Gus looked at him for a moment before laughing. “A Dragon? No, and I have no desire to change that.”

“Why not?”

“Because Dragons are dangerous, young man, and most people never get close enough to find out anything else about them. They're solitary creatures, rarely seen by ordinary people, and the sensible ones don't go looking for them.”

Stravos slowly turned his head toward the old merchant. “Solitary creatures?”

Gus nodded, apparently unaware that he had just said something deeply ridiculous to the person least qualified to accept it. “That's what the records say, anyway.”

Stravos stared at him for another moment before looking back at the map. Dragons had territories, families, rivalries, and gatherings, and he had spent two hundred years among them without ever concluding that his kind preferred solitude.

He remembered gatherings that had lasted for weeks, arguments over territory that had nearly destroyed entire mountainsides, and Dragons who would travel across great distances simply to visit their relatives. Calling them solitary was so absurd that he briefly wondered whether the people who wrote those records had ever met a Dragon at all.

“Perhaps the Dragons simply don't like your company,” Stravos remarked, keeping his expression as innocent as possible.

Iris, who had been listening to the conversation, burst into laughter, while Caspian turned his face away to hide his grin. Gus gave Stravos a deeply unimpressed look, but the corner of his mouth twitched before he finally shook his head.

“Keep talking like that, and I'll charge you extra for the map,” Gus warned.

Stravos smiled. “I thought you said merchants made money disappear.”

“That isn't what I meant, you troublesome kid.”

The conversation returned to normal, but Stravos's amusement soon faded as he considered what he had learned. The modern world apparently knew very little about Dragons, and what it did know was wrong, which meant that either the records were unreliable or something had happened to his kind during the years he had been gone.

He had no intention of asking too many questions just yet. If he wanted to understand this era, he needed to learn what people believed before deciding which parts of their history were worth trusting.

After a while, he folded the map and tucked it away. “What happened to the Heavenly Alliance after the war?”

Gus's expression became thoughtful. “It did what most alliances do after the enemy is gone. It stopped being an alliance.”

“And the people who led it?”

“Some became rulers, others returned to their own territories, and a few became legends.” Gus glanced at Stravos. “Why are you so interested in the old war?”

Stravos maintained his calm expression, although the question had caught his attention. “I suppose I'm trying to understand the world I woke up in. I'm trying to get my memories back.”

Gus seemed to accept that answer and continued walking. “Fair enough, but if you're looking for the name everyone remembers, that would be Amon.”

Stravos's fingers tightened around the strap of his bag.

Gus continued without noticing the change. “Amon, the King of Heroes, led the Heavenly Alliance against the Dragon Tyrant. He's remembered as the man who ended the old age of oppression and gave the world a chance to rebuild.”

Stravos kept walking, but the words settled heavily in his chest. The Dragon Tyrant was his father, the man he had helped bring down, and Amon was the same person who had torn out his heart after the battle.

“What do the history books say about the war?” Stravos asked, keeping his voice steady.

“They say Amon united the major races and defeated a tyrant who threatened the world,” Gus replied. “There are monuments, records, and celebrations dedicated to the victory. His name is known even in places far beyond Eldora.”

Stravos looked down at the road, his expression giving away little of what he felt. He remembered the promises made before the battle, the allies who had stood beside him, and the blades that had eventually turned against him, yet the history Gus described had no place for any of it.

“Convenient,” he muttered.

Gus glanced at him. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Stravos replied, lifting his eyes toward the road ahead. “I said it must have been a convenient victory.”

Gus shrugged. “History usually remembers the winners.”

Stravos said nothing after that, although the remark remained in his mind. He had already learned that the world had changed beyond recognition, but now he was beginning to understand that even the past itself had been reshaped into something he barely recognized.

By late afternoon, the walls of Eldora appeared in the distance, stretching across the horizon and surrounding a city far larger than Stravos remembered. Caravans moved steadily toward the enormous gates, and the road was crowded with merchants, travelers, guards, and people from different races carrying goods into the kingdom.

Stravos studied the approaching city with growing interest. The noise of the caravans, the merchants calling out to one another, and the constant movement of people reminded him that Eldora was a place built around commerce, where information and wealth could be just as valuable as physical strength.

However, the moment they reached the gate, two guards stepped forward and ordered the group to stop. One of them looked over the travelers before his gaze settled on Stravos, whose lack of documents immediately became a problem.

“Who's this?” the guard asked, resting one hand on his weapon.

Gus stepped forward before Stravos could answer. “He's with me, and he'll be joining a Merchant Guild.”

The guard frowned. “He isn't registered.”

“He will be,” Gus replied, his tone remaining calm. “I'll take responsibility for him until the registration is completed.”

The guard glanced at his companion, apparently uncertain whether to accept the explanation. “You know the rules, old man, and we can't let every stranger walk through the gates just because someone promises to take responsibility.”

Gus's expression changed slightly, and the easygoing merchant Stravos had traveled with suddenly seemed far more imposing. “I know the rules better than you think, and I also know how much trouble your superiors would have if they started delaying legitimate Guild business without good reason.”

The guard's posture stiffened.

Gus continued speaking in a firm, measured voice, reminding the man that the Merchant Guilds helped protect Eldora by maintaining trade routes, supplying resources, and supporting the kingdom's defenses. A prospective member traveling under the responsibility of an established merchant was not someone the guards needed to detain without cause.

The guard hesitated before finally stepping aside. “Fine, but make sure he registers properly once he's inside.”

“Of course,” Gus replied, returning to his usual cheerful manner as though nothing unusual had happened.

Stravos followed the others through the gate, but he couldn't help glancing back at the guards. Their attitude had changed remarkably quickly, and Gus's confidence suggested that his influence extended beyond the simple buying and selling of goods.

Once they were inside, Stravos fell into step beside the old merchant. “You seem to have a way with guards.”

Gus chuckled. “It helps to know people.”

“I'm beginning to suspect you know rather a lot of people.”

“That's what happens when you've been in business for a long time,” Gus replied, giving him a sideways glance. “You'll learn that soon enough if you become a Guild member by joining my Guild.”

Stravos considered the answer but decided not to press further. Gus had already proved useful, and there was no reason to turn a promising connection into an unnecessary argument before he understood what the old merchant could fully offer.

The city itself demanded his attention soon enough. Eldora's streets were crowded with merchants and travelers, while large buildings bearing the emblems of different guilds stood beside smaller shops and workshops, and the constant movement made it clear that commerce was the lifeblood of the kingdom.

Stravos was still taking in the sights when he noticed the monument.

It stood in a broad plaza, towering above the surrounding buildings, with a stone figure raised high enough to be seen from several streets away. People gathered around its base, some leaving flowers while others paused to listen to a storyteller recount the victories of the King of Heroes.

Stravos slowed to a stop.

He knew that face.

The carved figure wore a confident expression, one hand resting against the hilt of a sword, and even the passage of centuries had done nothing to erase the memory of those features from Stravos's mind. It was Amon, the man who had stood before him on the battlefield and torn his still-beating heart from his chest.

A group of children stood near the monument while their parents told them how Amon had united the races, defeated the Dragon Tyrant, and saved the world from a terrible age of oppression. Their voices carried through the plaza, and the people listening nodded with the quiet reverence usually reserved for someone who had given everything for the sake of others.

Stravos remained where he was, staring up at the man who had killed him. His hands stayed at his sides, but his fingers slowly curled as the familiar memory of that battlefield returned with painful clarity.

He had trusted Amon once, and that trust had cost him his life. Now, in a world that had forgotten the truth, the same man was celebrated as its greatest hero.

Stravos lowered his gaze toward the inscription carved into the monument's base, and his eyes stopped on a line identifying Amon as the slayer of the Dragon Tyrant and the vanquisher of Stravos, the Mad WarDragon of Greed.

For several seconds, he couldn't move.

They had not erased his name from history after all. They had made him the villain in the very story he had once helped bring to an end, while the man who betrayed him stood above the city as a symbol of hope.

Stravos slowly lifted his eyes toward Amon's stone face, and the faint smile that had accompanied him through the journey disappeared. He had returned to a world that no longer knew him, and now he had discovered that the world had already decided who he was.

He turned away from the monument, keeping his expression composed as the crowd continued celebrating behind him. Whatever else had changed during his absence, one thing had become painfully clear: before he could reclaim his wealth or settle the debt he owed Amon, he would have to discover how much of his own history had been buried beneath the legend of the King of Heroes.