Chapter 526: Might.
Chapter 526: Might.
Nero stepped onto the balcony of the apothecary’s second floor. The wooden railing creaked under his weight, and he took a careful step forward.Below, the street stretched out toward the edge of the Inner District, narrowing as it approached the border. There, the buildings changed. The neat, orderly facades of the city ended abruptly, replaced by leaning structures of brick and rotted wood. The roofs were patched with scraps of metal, canvas, and whatever else could be found. Smoke rose from chimneys unevenly as thick black serpents.
The closer he looked, the more the filth came into focus. Narrow alleys branched between the houses, dark and crooked, littered with trash. The streets themselves were uneven and pocked with open drains that carried waste. Rats ran along the edges of the road, skittering across boards and piles of debris, stopping only when something larger passed by. Their squeals pierced the low murmur of the slum, the constant grinding sound of a place left to decay.
In this moment, Nero’s gaze stretched far and wide, seeing from the center to the corners of the wide outer district...
Nero’s eyes traced the inhabitants moving about. Faces were darkened with grime. Hair, matted and unwashed, hung in thick strands, some stiffened with dirt. Their clothes were rags, layered in mismatched pieces stitched together or held by belts, rope, or sheer desperation. Children ran barefoot over stones and muck, darting between adults with sacks of food, scraps of wood, or stolen trinkets.
A cart rolled down one narrow street, its wheels stuck in ruts filled with water that reflected the gray sky above. The driver shouted at a boy who tried to jump aboard for a free ride. The boy disappeared into the crowd, his small hands gripping the edge of a wooden beam as he climbed higher into the structure he called home. Nero followed him with his gaze as he vanished behind a leaning building.
From the second-floor window, he could see the rooftops. A few ropes also hung between buildings, knotted and frayed, with laundry swaying above the street. Shingles were missing, doors hung by single hinges, and walls leaned against one another as though the whole place might collapse with a single gust of wind.
The border itself was marked by a crude stone arch and the remains of a gate, more symbolic than functional. Beyond it, the streets twisted into more narrow paths. Nero’s gaze followed them as far as he could.
Theo stepped up beside him but said nothing. The older man’s eyes swept the same scene with a subtle disgust nestled on his forehead.
"This place is a stain on our great city. God is not here."