I Tricked a God

The humid, salty air softly filled his lungs, leaving behind a strange but pleasant sensation. With each breath, his body seemed to relax, and the world around grew warmer.

Kael stood by the wooden railing, holding onto it with one hand and looking down. The transparent water, with a faint pinkish hue, parted to the sides from the swift movement of the ship. Waves crashed loudly against the hull, leaving a long trailing wake behind the vessel.

Removing his insulated cloak and draping it over his arm, he thought: “The climate is changing. On this side of the Central Dragon Mountains, the wind is noticeably warmer…”

The thought was cut short by a sharp snap.

Startled, he immediately raised his head. Above him, a large red sail stretched across the masts suddenly curved under the pressure of the wind.

A little higher, on a special platform, a mage stood with his legs set firmly apart, holding a large sphere before him. Channeling mana into it, he maintained the flow that burst outward with force.

The wind did not strike only the sail.

Spreading outward, it curved around the deck, ran along the sides, and pushed the ship forward from behind, increasing its speed. The boards beneath his feet trembled faintly in response to the pressure.

Watching this and feeling a slight unease, Kael thought: “Just don’t fall overboard…”

For a moment, imagining his body sinking beneath the water, he tightened his grip on the railing, returning to reality.

But a brief glance at the deck was enough to understand—he was still rather brave. Almost all the youths from Lasthold stayed closer to the center, sitting directly on the boards and gripping the boards with their hands.

Among them were Violet and Roselle. They sat side by side, pressed close to the deck and holding onto the fixtures, trying not to move at all and not to look at the endless waters beyond the side.

Seeing this, Kael thought: “The people of Lasthold hardly ever left the city walls. And if anyone learned to swim, it was only in the city canals with cold running mountain water.”

Recalling how his father had once thrown him into one of those canals without warning, he involuntarily shuddered, as if a chill ran down his spine. But almost immediately he smirked, shaking his head slightly.

“Father really got it from Mother that time…”

Turning his gaze back overboard and watching the rushing water, he added inwardly:

“But now… I almost regret that Mother forbade him from repeating that experiment. It would’ve been good to learn how to swim…”

The thought was cut off by a sharp shout from the side.

“Hey, look, guys!”

Gilmesh’s voice rang out too loudly, cutting through the combined noise of wind and water. Kael turned his head sharply, immediately noticing how Gilmesh had almost leaned over the railing, his whole body pitched forward.

For a moment, it seemed Gilmesh might fall.

Kael already started to move, but didn’t manage to take even a single step.

Girren lunged forward first, grabbing Gilmesh by the belt and sharply yanking him back. With his other hand, he seized the railing, securing both of them.

Girren’s face was pale and strained to the limit. It was easy to see he was no less frightened than those who did not even dare approach the edge.

“Have you completely lost your mind?!” he hissed through clenched teeth, not letting go.

Kael had already opened his mouth to say something, but froze.

His gaze caught on the fog ahead.

Through the thin haze spreading over the water, silhouettes began to emerge.

“What is that…” he muttered, narrowing his eyes.

Despite the bright sun, a faint haze had lingered on the horizon for the past few hours, blurring the outlines and making it difficult to see what lay ahead. But now, as he looked more closely, Kael noticed it gradually thinning, as if revealing the scene hidden behind it.

And that scene turned out to be unexpected.

Ahead, as far as the eye could see, ships stretched across the water—dozens, then hundreds, filling it. They swayed slowly on the waves, forming dense clusters, and with each passing second became clearer.

Somewhere nearby, Cornelius spoke quietly. He muttered something under his breath, but Kael still caught part of the phrase: “We’re almost home…”

Kael’s heart gave a slight jolt, and his gaze lingered on the unfolding sight.

“The capital of the Empire… I wonder how different it is from Lasthold?”

Girren, standing beside him, swallowed nervously without taking his eyes off them and said with clear tension in his voice:

“These ships… They’re getting closer so fast…”

“No,” Kael replied calmly, continuing to observe. “They’re standing still. It’s us moving at great speed.”

Only now, with a clear reference point before him, did Kael truly feel the speed. They were traveling much faster than he had thought before.

The ships grew larger, details becoming distinguishable, and soon he began to notice what exactly they were doing. From some vessels, wide nets descended into the water, faintly glowing—woven of mana, holding their shape even in motion. From others, harpoons were launched with force, after which crews hauled heavy carcasses of large sea beasts aboard.

Watching this, Kael involuntarily slowed his breathing as he took in what he was seeing.

“They’re not military… They’re fishing.”

With that thought, he noticed their ship beginning to enter the fog.

The haze thickened quickly, wrapping around the hull and deck. Breathing in the damp air, Kael suddenly sensed something strange—it was infused with mana.

Not scattered, but ordered, evenly distributed, as if someone were deliberately maintaining it in that state.

Frowning slightly and continuing to peer ahead, he murmured, “So this fog is artificial…”

At that moment, movement began around him: one after another, the youths of Lasthold started rising to their feet, no longer clinging so tightly to the boards and looking around with cautious curiosity.

Through the fog, more and more ships appeared, emerging almost suddenly from different sides, and along with them came shouts, laughter, and fragments of conversation in an unfamiliar language. The sounds were lively and loud, making it clear this was something ordinary for the locals.

The fear was still there, but it was clearly being pushed aside by curiosity, and whispers quickly spread across the deck:

“So many outsiders… I never would have thought there were so many people beyond Lasthold…”

“This is unbelievable…”

The imperial mages looked different—standing more confidently and barely paying attention to the rocking; after the long and exhausting journey, a clear sense of anticipation at returning home showed in their movements.

Cornelius, looking ahead through the fog, thought: “I promised the Emperor I would find a path through the Central Dragon Mountains… But I found far more.”

The old man puffed out his chest slightly and added with anticipation: “The Emperor will be pleased with me… Perhaps I will finally receive a promotion, despite my low mana level…”

At that moment, ahead through the dense veil, rays of sunlight began to break through, dispersing the fog and leaving ragged gaps in it. Kael noticed this at once, leaning forward slightly and watching as the light grew brighter.

In the next second, the ship seemed to break through an invisible boundary.

The light struck their eyes.

For a moment, everyone was blinded, and Kael, reflexively raising his hand, shaded his face. Squinting and gradually adjusting to the brightness, he directed his gaze forward—and froze.

His heart skipped a beat.

“Incredible…” he breathed, almost inaudibly.

The reaction of the others was even stronger. Suppressed gasps rolled across the deck, along with astonished exclamations; some even involuntarily stepped back, as if what they saw was too vast to comprehend at once.

Before them stretched a gigantic island.

At first glance, that was exactly what it looked like—a massive stretch of land covered in white cliffs, with blood-red crystals jutting out from them. But the closer one looked, the clearer it became: these were not cliffs, and not crystals.

It was a city.

The white “cliffs” turned out to be structures—enormous, built in tiers, rising upward and merging into a single mass. At the base stood towering walls, at whose foundations lay ports filled with ships.

Beyond the walls extended countless buildings, and their dark red roofs reflected the sunlight brightly, gleaming like a scatter of rubies.

The white surfaces of the walls were covered with red flags and inlays, the patterns of which could not be distinguished from such a distance.

The capital occupied the entire island, overwhelming with its scale.

It was a city that Lasthold could not even begin to compare with.

“What is this?” Girren muttered, standing nearby and unable to take his eyes off the sight before him. “Can a city really be this large?”

Kael did not answer aloud, only narrowed his eyes slightly, continuing to study the details.

“I’ve read about cities like this… But seeing one in person is something else entirely…”

Shifting his gaze toward the center of the island, he soon noticed what he had first taken for a mountain. It rose above the entire city, standing out against the other structures and stretching upward like a separate mass.

But as he looked more closely, he froze.

That small mountain had also been turned into a building.

A colossal citadel, built around a stone foundation and seemingly carved directly into it, rose upward, combining natural form with constructed architecture.

“The entire island is covered in structures created by human mages…” he thought. “This scale rivals that of the ancient empires…”

His gaze drifted lower.

Across the waters surrounding the island, hundreds of ships moved or stood still—from small vessels to massive platforms bustling with activity. Farther beyond the island, the outline of the mainland was already visible, connected by gigantic bridges.

Their arched spans were so high that even the largest ships passed beneath them without slowing down.

Slowly returning his gaze to the city itself, Kael noticed how, along its outskirts, streams of multicolored smoke rose into the sky—smoke that could only come from large-scale forges and alchemical halls.

Something tightened in his chest and then released, mixing excitement with barely restrained anticipation.

“Here… Here I will have far more opportunities.”

But at that moment, the general murmur was cut through by the loud and solemn voice of Elder Cornelius, echoing across the entire deck:

“Venira no Gradus Rubenar, capitala Impera! En valeth minora sena arien no porten. Et thalen, vareth stricta no sena, na lumer disperen.”

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Kael flinched, pulled from his thoughts, and almost immediately, catching the meaning, repeated in the same solemn tone:

“Welcome to the Ruby City! The capital of the Empire! In a few minutes, we will arrive at the port. After that, follow us strictly and do not get separated!”

A stir passed across the deck—some exchanged glances, others whispered quietly, but the confusion was gone. Almost automatically, out of habit formed during the journey, everyone began forming into tight rows, closing ranks.

Kael cast a brief glance back, making sure the others were moving. Without a word, he took his place at the head of the column. The image of the city still lingered in his mind, along with a quiet anticipation of what lay ahead.

✦ ✦ ✦

Because of the tension and anticipation, time seemed to compress, and several dozen minutes passed almost unnoticed.

Standing in formation, Kael, along with the others, involuntarily lifted his gaze upward, watching as the city loomed closer and closer above them. Now its scale was felt differently—not from afar, but directly overhead, pressing down with its walls, towers, and endless tiers.

But the daze was broken by a heavy thud—the ship touched the pier.

The vessel jolted sharply, and a wave of tension rippled across the deck. Almost immediately, unfamiliar voices rang out, quick and coordinated, and people in unfamiliar uniforms began jumping aboard, moving confidently even with the rocking.

They acted without a word.

Some immediately moved to the ropes, others secured metal hooks, and still others checked the fastenings, working quickly and with practiced ease.

Watching this and comparing it with what he had read before, Kael thought: “We’ve finally arrived at the port… They’re docking the ship.”

At that moment, greetings in the imperial language sounded from the pier, and almost immediately a wide wooden gangway was brought to the side, fixed in place between the ship and the stone dock with a dull thud.

Cornelius returned the greeting—briefly and confidently—then, without wasting time, stepped forward first and onto the gangway, beginning to disembark.

Kael immediately straightened and, casting a quick glance ahead, commanded:

“Follow the elder! Be careful, everyone. If anyone gets lost along the way, your fate will be uncertain. In a city this large, it’s best to stay close!”

Without waiting for a response, he moved forward first, stepping onto the wooden gangway and feeling the slight vibration of the planks beneath his feet, then confidently heading toward the pier.

As he descended, he lifted his gaze upward, noticing a long and wide staircase stretching from the port, rising somewhere high toward the tops of the massive walls. From its appearance alone, it was clear that the port lay several levels below the main city.

There were far too many people around.

Along the piers, bridges, and the staircase itself, hundreds of people moved in a constant flow, without slowing down or getting in each other’s way, as if each knew exactly their place and their route.

His companions followed right behind Kael.

Violet, glancing around and instinctively pressing closer, sharply drew in a breath and murmured quietly:

“Thinking we could resist… was pure madness.”

Kael gave a short nod, not taking his eyes off what was happening around them.

“Even I underestimated them…”

And almost immediately, inwardly, he added coldly: “Lasthold simply has no means to resist. If I want to ensure my parents’ safety, there’s only one option…”

Estimating the full scale of the Capital, he finished the thought: “If I and the other youths of Lasthold succeed—we’ll be able to influence how Lasthold is treated. Only then can we improve the situation for those we care about.”

With that thought, Kael jumped down onto the pier, landing lightly and immediately stepping forward, trying not to fall out of step with the others.

But he had barely taken a couple of steps when a sharp shout cut through the air: “What?! What the hell is that?!”

Gilmesh’s voice rang out far too loudly, instantly drawing attention. Kael jerked, turning his head toward the far side of the pier.

He froze at once, and his palms instantly grew damp.

There, near a massive vessel, heavy crates were being unloaded—large, metal-bound, clearly not meant for light work. But that was not what drew the eye.

The crates were not being handled by human mages.

“Beastfolk!” the thought flashed sharply.

And in that very moment, three such creatures were already walking toward their pier, moving straight in their direction and instantly heightening the tension in the ranks.

Someone behind quietly cursed, someone else instinctively stepped back half a step, but the formation held.

The creatures moved calmly and obediently, even showing hints of fear. Their bodies were covered in short but dense fur, clinging tightly to their muscles. The fur covered almost the entire body, except for the upper chest, neck, and face, where bluish skin was clearly visible.

Despite that color, their faces resembled human ones in many ways.

But only at first glance.

Looking closer, Kael immediately noted the differences. Their ears were short and pointed, pressed tightly to the head. Their eyes—with completely black sclera—looked unnaturally deep and somewhat unsettling, as if they lacked the usual reflection of light.

One of the beastfolk turned his head toward his companions and said something quietly, and at that moment, fangs flashed in his slightly open mouth—longer and noticeably sharper than human ones.

Even the nose was different: the nostrils appeared as narrow vertical slits, giving the face a predatory yet restrained look.

And although they showed no threat, their mere presence was enough to send a chill down many spines.

In disbelief, Kael leaned forward slightly, studying their bodies more closely, trying to catch every detail.

Their hands and bare feet resembled human ones in shape, but their fingers ended in thick black nail plates that transitioned into short claws. With every step, they scraped faintly against the stone, leaving behind a quiet, unpleasant grating sound.

The only clothing they wore were wide black trousers made of thick fabric, allowing freedom of movement and clearly meant for hard labor.

But when Kael raised his gaze back up, toward their necks, he tensed.

They wore steel collars.

From them, thin lines of script spread across the skin, trailing downward toward the chest and closing around the heart, as if forming a sealed circle.

At that moment, one of the beastfolk briefly met Kael’s gaze.

And immediately looked away, lowering his head and continuing to walk, as if the very act of eye contact could result in punishment.

Kael narrowed his eyes slightly, recalling Zeiran.

“Their mana is sealed… They’re slaves.”

Shifting his gaze further, now observing more consciously, he began to notice more and more such creatures throughout the port—they carried loads, moved between ships, and obeyed short commands from humans.

“Just as the books described… Their fur is mostly black and dark violet… But there are exceptions…”

Soon he spotted one with silver fur, standing out among the others, and a bit farther—a second, with a faint greenish tint.

Cornelius, sensing the tension and fear that had spread through the ranks of the youths, smirked and said calmly:

“Na temer. Elar creathen minor, venath servenar no rathar sena. Ria lumer shae… paelor super bestiar.”

Kael swallowed involuntarily, then translated in a steadier voice:

“Do not be afraid. These are lesser beings, bound to serve our kind. They are only slightly more intelligent than ordinary animals.”

But as he said it aloud, inwardly Kael noted coldly:

“Nonsense. If they managed to invade the Human Dimension and conquer part of it, they are certainly no weaker than humans.”

Narrowing his eyes slightly and continuing to watch the beastfolk, he thought: “This must be one of the ways they humiliate their enemies… A display of hatred and contempt…”

By that moment, everyone had fully descended onto the pier, and Cornelius, without slowing, moved forward, leading the group. The flow of people swept them along, and the Lasthold column began to merge into the general movement of the port.

As they passed by the beastfolk, one of the imperial mages suddenly stopped and slapped him hard. The slap sounded sharp and loud, after which the mage spat contemptuously onto the stone and calmly walked on, as if nothing had happened.

Shock rippled through the ranks.

Someone gasped, someone drew in a sharp breath, and several of the youths of Lasthold whispered with clear confusion—and even sympathy:

“Why did he do that?”

“What did that creature do to deserve that?”

But not everyone agreed.

Some, pressing their lips together, objected quietly but firmly:

“If they’re kin to those possessed beasts, then they deserve it…”

“I’m sure he and others like him have killed many.”

Kael let out a short breath and, turning to his companions, immediately caught sight of Lissandra’s face, where sympathy was clearly visible.

Leaning a little closer and lowering his voice, he said quietly:

“Until the situation is clear, don’t react to things like this. Neither positively nor negatively.”

After a brief pause, making sure they were listening, he added:

“For now, we stay neutral and follow the imperial mages in all things.”

The response came at once.

They all nodded simultaneously, accepting his words without hesitation. Over the course of this journey, Kael’s companions had not even noticed how they had already come to see him as their leader.

With those thoughts, the group moved on, stepping onto the wide stone staircase leading upward toward the main levels of the city. The stone beneath their feet was smooth and worn, clearly having endured thousands upon thousands of steps before them.

✦ ✦ ✦

With each flight of stairs they climbed, the noise grew louder.

From below came the hum of the port, but the higher they ascended, the more new sounds wove into it—voices, footsteps, shouts, the distant clang of metal. The city lived its own life, and it could be felt even here.

Passersby, noticing the procession, reacted immediately.

Many stopped or slowed their pace, bowing their heads before Cornelius and the other imperial mages, showing deep respect. But the moment their gaze shifted to the youths of Lasthold, their expressions changed.

People exchanged glances, assessing them, letting their eyes linger a little longer than necessary.

Confusion showed in their expressions.

As if they were judging their clothing, trying to understand who stood before them—but finding no answer.

And at the moment they finally reached the last steps, a wide square opened before Kael and the others, spreading out at the base of the inner walls.

Work was in full swing here.

At the edges of the square, massive lifting mechanisms continuously lowered cargo down to the port level, where workers immediately took it over. Nearby, fresh fish were being sorted on the spot, quickly packed into crates and sealed with magic. As soon as the crates were coated in ice, they were loaded onto carts. Amid all this, groups of beastfolk moved back and forth, carrying sacks and heavy boxes without a word, working with precision and coordination.

At a glance, it was clear that this was a work zone, entirely built around the flow of goods and supplies.

But amid all this bustle, something else stood out.

Off to the side stood carts harnessed to massive, muscular horses whose bodies seemed too powerful even for such harnesses. From their heads, wide horns curved backward, giving them a dangerous appearance.

And beside the carts, a detachment of people in black leather armor had already lined up.

Their armor fit tightly, not hindering movement, and on each chest was emblazoned a bright red symbol—a dragon with outstretched wings.

And the moment the warriors noticed Cornelius and Severus, they immediately dropped to one knee in unison, bowing their heads:

“Valen venira tora!”

The movement was precise, nearly perfect, but even in this greeting they couldn’t help themselves—their gazes kept drifting toward the group, lingering on the youths from Lasthold.

Severus noticed this at once and barked sharply:

“Salen mireth! Ria venath no tasken certa!”

The translation flashed instantly in Kael’s mind: “Stop staring! You are here for a specific task!”

The warriors jerked as if struck and immediately sprang into motion, moving around the carts and quickly opening them.

Severus stepped forward, sweeping them with a stern gaze, and added more loudly:

“Ira shae se ria sparenar venath—na lumer venira ria impuna!”

In Kael’s mind, the translation sounded at once: “If I find out you’re spreading rumors—you will be severely punished!”

Realizing that unnecessary commotion was about to begin, Kael did not wait for instructions, immediately turning to his companions:

“Get into the carts, everyone. Stay calm and don’t make noise.”

For a moment, they froze, exchanging nervous glances. But understanding it was an order, they began moving toward the carts, though with clear unease.

Kael stepped after them, controlling the group’s movement, making sure no one fell behind.

Off to the side, Cornelius watched in silence, then gave a faint smile and an approving nod.

As he walked toward the first cart, Kael caught, out of the corner of his ear, one of the warriors—apparently the leader—speaking clearly in the imperial language:

“Captain Severus, I have prepared your armor!”

With those words, he made a sharp gesture, and a piece of chest armor appeared before him from a spatial storage space, suspended in the air.

It was at that very moment that Kael’s gaze caught on a detail.

His amber eyes glinted slightly, and a thought flashed through his mind: “He has three of them…”

The red dragon on Severus’s breastplate was different. Three horns extended from its head, whereas the warrior standing before him had only one on his emblem.

Quickly sweeping his gaze over the others, Kael noticed even more differences.

“Some don’t have horns at all… It must be a sign of rank and status…”

But he didn’t have time to finish the thought.

Severus, without even looking at the armor, said dryly:

“If I put it on now, you’ll have to wash and polish it all over again.”

Then, with a faint smirk, he added with rough humor, “Better save your hands for training.”

After that, he gave a short wave of his hand, issuing an order:

“Take these children to the Imperial Academy. They’re already expected there.”

And immediately, raising his voice, he barked sharply: “Kael, raise your hand!”

For a moment, Kael hesitated, not expecting to be addressed, but almost immediately raised his hand, drawing attention to himself.

The warriors’ gazes shifted at once.

Severus, nodding in Kael’s direction, added:

“This boy understands our language well enough. All communication will go through him.”

The warriors exchanged glances, then nodded in unison, accepting the order.

Kael, already climbing onto the cart and holding onto the side, inclined his head slightly and spoke calmly in the imperial language:

“What are my instructions?”

The answer did not come from Severus.

Cornelius, standing slightly behind, turned his gaze to him and said evenly:

“You will be taken to the Imperial Academy and assigned temporary lodging. Further instructions will be given on site.”

After a brief pause, he added, a bit quieter but with the same weight in his voice:

“I have many matters to attend to now, so I will visit you only in a few days.”

Then, growing more serious, with a strange tone in his voice, he said:

“Do everything you can to help your people adapt quickly, Kael. It is in your best interests.”

At that moment, the warriors gave a short whistle, and the massive horses jerked their heads, immediately surging forward. The carts jolted, wheels creaked against the stone, and the entire line began to move.

Holding his balance, Kael glanced back for a moment, watching as the figures of Cornelius and Severus gradually grew distant. He only inclined his head respectfully in their direction, not looking away until the last moment.

And in that instant, a cold, focused gleam flashed in his amber eyes.

“So, the Imperial Academy… I wonder what the Empire has prepared for us…”

Lowering himself onto a bench and narrowing his eyes slightly, he immediately continued the thought, now more grounded:

“For now, I need to learn the local laws and customs. Until I understand them, making conclusions and plans is dangerous… But one thing is clear—there will be no shortage of work.”