Round 20: Three Guard Soldiers

The Expanse has no sun, but it does have day and night.
Delving into why the sky alternates between light and dark in cycles would only invite mockery from those from other planes. In truth, when a smart person realizes he’s suddenly transported from his sunny, warm hometown to the Expanse—a place that turns upside down all his prior beliefs—and still has to eat, sleep, without dealing with time zone shifts, he gains a deeper understanding of the lofty status of “order” in the multiverse.
But most of the guys who come and go through the portals, armed, with money, and acting recklessly are fools, which is why the scavenging birds circling under the lifeless dark red sky never run out of food.
An old vulture flapped its wings and landed on a rusty, long iron nail, bending down to tear off a piece of something floating there to eat. The ragged piece of food danced for a moment in its sharp beak before being swallowed as its diseased neck moved. The vulture seemed satisfied with this small meal, spreading its patchy wings and emitting an ominous cry—a sound like a funeral bell that echoed and circled, passing over more hooks and spikes stretching in all directions, spreading along the towering black city walls in the twilight, until it was blocked by the rib-like peaks that curved inward on both sides of the city.
“Tch!” In the shadows at the base of the wall, a tall man took off his full-face helmet made of black iron, glared angrily at the bird droppings on it, and spat fiercely on the ground. “These damned crows—eat and then poop! One day I’m going to pin them all to the wall to dry with those Bar folks!”
“That’ll attract more… Besides, they’re vultures, not crows.” Another soldier by the wall leaned heavily on his battle axe, which served as a crutch, and looked at him through the gaps in his visor with a mocking expression. But the tall man was still cursing the birds that defecated on his head and didn’t notice. “Put on your helmet, fool. We’re on duty right now. Be careful not to get caught in an untidy state by the inspectors. It wouldn’t be pleasant if they whipped you hard.”
“I said, stop calling me a fool!” The tall man bent down, rubbed his helmet hard against the sand, then stood up, turning back with a fierce look that made his face even uglier. “Otherwise, I’ll throw you into the moat to feed the fish!”
“Alright, alright, calm down, Gino. Charles has a point too.” A third person symbolically raised his hand to settle the dispute between the two. Standing at the city gate, he looked like a fully armed piece of meat in a monster’s mouth. “Let’s just finish this shift properly, get this damned job over with, and then go to the ‘Steam Gym’ to relax a bit… It’s crazy—somehow, my back has been hurting like someone’s using a knife to pry at my shoulder blades these past few days!”

The tall Gino muttered something and put his helmet back on. He walked back and forth along the dark green moat, seemingly oblivious to the stench of the water: “Vincent, I’ve had enough! Early shift, middle shift, and now the night shift! I’ve been on duty all day straight! There isn’t a single soul around except for those feathered bastards in the sky! Hmph, oh, and this too.” He was referring to the corpses nailed to walls and strung on poles outside the city—most of them reduced to skeletal frames with only a little flesh and hair left. The hellhound and vultures raised by the powerful had already feasted on them, with flies occasionally stopping by for a snack as well. “Keep a positive attitude, you idiot… Gino.” Charles adjusted his stance for comfort: “Maybe we’ll run into some fools who want to try their luck in the city soon. We can make some extra money and have some fun—this is the perfect blend of work and leisure.” “Enough. Don’t be careless, gentlemen,” Vincent at the gate said seriously, warning his companions: “Since the higher-ups even care whether we wear helmets on duty, it’s better to be cautious. This is Bone Cage City. Making mistakes here doesn’t end well—mercy isn’t meant for people like us. Don’t forget that unlucky guy from a few days ago… Hey! Someone’s coming! Stay alert!” Indeed, from the desolate shadows of the narrow valley, a group of travelers was approaching along the faintly reddish, barren rocky terrain. The three gatekeepers gripped their weapons as they drew closer. It was a strange group—at least strange in these foreign lands. The leader was a tall blue-skinned creature with a ridiculous conch-shaped hat. His wide, pleated robe, though dusty from the journey, still revealed its high value through its exquisite craftsmanship and fine materials. Two graceful figures followed behind him; their faces were indistinct in the twilight, but their figures and walking styles were enough to arouse unwanted thoughts in those with malicious intentions. The only one who seemed somewhat threatening was the heavily armored warrior wandering not too far away. His steel armor glinted faintly, but he wasn’t carrying a weapon—was he going to fight with his fists alone? “Plane merchants?” Charles stepped forward with his battle axe, standing on the suspension bridge with Gino, squinting to look: “These are the next best targets after the Main Material fools… Ha, are those his guards?” “Hmph, maybe he thinks hiring a few fools is enough to protect him,” Gino laughed rudely. “Look, what do I see? I bet those two girls can fetch a good price in the slave market.” “…Damn it, that’s a mage, a red-robed mage! You two idiots!”

The guards and travelers stood at each end of the suspension bridge, staring at one another across the moat. In fact, it was mainly the guards who were looking, as everyone else’s attention was elsewhere—except for a plane merchant who stood hunched over with a professional smile on his face. The red-robed female mage appeared calm; though she was looking toward Bone Cage City, it seemed as though she were examining through the soldiers the intricately carved, face-like gates of the city, wide enough for two carriages to pass side by side.

A slightly younger girl followed closely behind. Her gaze met the bones by the city wall and quickly averted, eventually fixing her eyes on the tips of her shoes.

“If I could meet Count Dracula, I’d ask him to sign my name,” the warrior said. The bones outside the city clearly failed to serve as a proper deterrent or warning. Standing at the bridge’s end with his arms crossed, he gazed from the stinking Acid River to the black, inverted trapezoidal city walls—hundreds of feet high, slightly sloping outward, yet astonishingly sturdy in structure. Strangely, the warrior’s iron-gray head moved nimbly from side to side as he spoke nonsensical words, while the rest of his body remained motionless. The metal plates forming his armor were intricately connected like bricks in a wall, with no weak points visible. The blades and spikes extending from his shoulders and elbows complemented the nails on the city walls, making him resemble a statue fused with Bone Cage City. Only the two glowing red dots on his face indicated he was alive, emitting an ominous aura like that of a ghost.

“Cough… stop!” After hesitating for a moment, Vincent lifted his mask and shouted. If merely his bright red mage robes were enough to scare them into silence, there would likely be three more corpses by the city walls by tomorrow to feed the vultures. “Do you have legitimate permission to enter this city? I don’t think so—so what reason do you have to convince us?”

The cowardly threats didn’t diminish the blue-skinned merchant’s smile. He spread his hands to show he posed no threat and slowly approached. Vincent noticed a few small wounds on the merchant’s hands, mostly at the joints of his slender fingers.

“We’re not refugees, nor thieves,” the merchant said gently. “We’re just passersby who are honored to see the majestic and beautiful Bone Cage City on our journey.”

He extended his hand. The minor injuries didn’t affect the flexibility of his fingers, which could bend back like ropes toward his wrist, returning with small, golden-colored objects clutched between them.

“With all due respect, I assure you we’ll pass quietly and cause no trouble. No one dares to cause trouble in Bone Cage City, Lord Pryx’s domain.”

“Hey, Vincent,” Charles nudged his companion from behind and whispered, “It seems like nothing serious. These guys won’t dare break the rules… We should be able to get more.”

Vincent’s facial muscles twitched, but he didn’t respond.

“Crawlers! Open your packs—every guy who wants to enter the city will be checked!” roared the giant Gino. It seemed he had decided to do his duty or agreed with Charles: “Don’t make me say it twice!”
“And you,” he said, raising his sword from its sheath and pointing it at the warrior who was still looking around, “staring around like that will cost you your eyes! Wearing all that armor—aren’t you afraid it’ll exhaust you? Do you think you’re the same as me?”
The warrior turned to Gino.
He stepped forward, the drawbridge creaking under his weight. The merchant immediately stepped aside, and Vincent noticed this.
“Hey! Damn it, you want to fight?!” Gino’s sword was grabbed by the warrior’s hand. Though that cold, iron-like face could scare many people, he had seen all sorts of folks working as gatekeepers in foreign lands. What kind of reckless newbie thought he was? Gino could have pulled his sword from its sheath with a single step back and bring it close to the warrior’s neck—
“I’m not like you.” But the warrior simply held Gino’s sword casually, without using much force, seemingly unbothered at all. “Speaking of being well-armed, you’ve even got an extra hat on. Wait… okay, now you’re a bit more like me.”
The helmet covered Gino’s face, but his eyes showed terror. He seemed to try to pull his sword back from the warrior’s hand, but after just a slight movement, his body stiffened. Even after the warrior let go, he remained in that position, frozen in his armor—only able to utter a hoarse roar: “What… what did you do to me?”
“Take it.” The red-robed female mage passed by Vincent.
Then she turned back: “You seem wary of my clothes… why? Has the city gate caught fire recently?”
She was referring to the blurred scorched marks at the bottom of the massive iron gate, where it seemed to have been severely burned by flames. But the mage didn’t wait for Vincent’s reply. After asking that, she walked straight into the city. The little girl and the steel warrior followed closely behind. The merchant seemed to sigh and shoved gold coins into Vincent’s hand.
“Be kind to others, and you’ll stay further away from the Book of Death.”
Vincent said nothing, watching them go. Suddenly, Charles shouted.
“Come see, Vincent! Gino’s armor… he’s trapped inside it! Hey, it seems he’s met someone he can’t afford to anger!”
“Shut up! Go get help!” Gino roared.
Indeed. From head to toe, all the metal parts were inexplicably welded together, even the sword was firmly stuck to his hand, as if the hilt and the iron glove were one piece.
“You two fools!” Vincent suddenly became furious. He slapped Charles in the head, knocking him off balance as he stared at Gino trapped inside the armor. “Get out of the way! What are you staring at? Gino, just stand here and guard like a good boy! You stupid idiot! Those who possess power make the rules—we’re just pawns!”

“It seems our friend really can’t stay still.” Moriel walked along the narrow streets of the city, the bricks and stones under his feet having a color akin to flesh. On both sides of the street stood tall towers and private fortresses built of black-gray stones, resembling cities within cities of various sizes. It was somewhat similar to Rain City, but more orderly and gloomy than the Swamp Camp. Add to this the groups of patrol soldiers moving back and forth, most of them clad in pitch-black armor with blood-red cloaks fluttering behind them, like overworked army ants. Passersby usually changed course to avoid them before they approached—making it easier to think of places like barracks or prisons.

“I was only here once, a long time ago, for business matters,” Jacob said, quickening his pace to lead them into an alley before Forty-Seven reached an intersection and encountered two guards chatting there. High walls with spikes on both sides enclosed them, like a miniature version of the canyon they had passed through upon entering the city. “Greed, violence, fraud—every day here is a torment… The only ‘advantage’ is that, compared to some other equally terrible cities, Ribcage City is at least orderly.”

“Since coming here wasn’t part of my plan, it might be difficult to find a portal to Seal City,” Jacob discussed with Moriel. “All the portals in the city are under the control of the city lord Pricks and the five major families. They won’t be happy to let just anyone use their resources. Even if we find a way, we’ll have to pay a high price… I think we should first stay at the city’s hot springs, one of the few places in Ribcage City where outsiders can feel comfortable. I stayed in one of those baths last time. Then I’ll try to find out more and come up with a plan.”

“Follow your lead,” Moriel said. “After traveling for so many days, we do need to rest properly. By the way, handling all these arrangements must cost a lot of money, right?”

Forty-Seven magically handed Jacob a small leather bag. It was very heavy and bulging, and when it was given to the merchant, there was a loud sound of coins clinking.

“Oh… no need, no need,” the merchant tried to decline. “Taking you to Seal City is part of our agreement; it’s my responsibility. I’ll find a way to make it happen…”

“Take it,” Forty-Seven said, his voice as calm as when he had threatened him before, yet his words were those of a worldly philosopher. “Money is also a form of power—it can turn black into white, ugly into beautiful, false into true, humble into noble, old into young, cowardly into brave… I quite like the carrot-and-stick strategy.”