Chapter 38: Helheim City

Helheim City was not Helheim.

The distinction mattered.

Helheim was the martial institution for which the entire region was famous, the academy established by House Grandel to temper generation after generation beneath its banner.

Helheim City was the enormous metropolis that had grown beneath that institution over centuries, fed by the people, wealth, resources, industries, and opportunities gathered around it.

More than ten million people permanently called the city home. Once merchants, visiting families, mercenaries, caravans, craftsmen, traveling martial artists, and countless temporary residents were included, that number frequently approached fifteen million.

For a city built around an academy, such numbers sounded absurd only until one understood what Helheim had become.

Helheim City was one of the great cities of Grandel territory. Noble families maintained estates within its walls. Vassal Houses kept permanent residences for descendants studying at Helheim and representatives conducting business throughout the region.

Merchant organizations operated enormous branches here, while blacksmith clans established entire workshop districts because an academy filled with young martial artists created an endless appetite for weapons. Alchemists sold medicines, pills, herbs, and ingredients.

Beast merchants purchased Demonic Cores, and other materials harvested from the mountain ranges. Auction houses competed over rare treasures while inns, restaurants, trading companies, tailors, craftsmen, and transport businesses flourished beneath the constant movement of people and money.

Some parents relocated to the city while their children attended Helheim. Retired instructors settled here after decades inside the academy. Former students opened businesses, founded households, or remained because the opportunities surrounding Helheim were simply too valuable to abandon.

Entire families had lived inside the city for generations despite none of their members ever setting foot inside the academy as students.

Helheim City belonged to ordinary civilization.

Helheim above belonged to warriors.

The relationship between the two could be understood from the sky.

Helheim City occupied an enormous mountain basin measuring approximately seventy-two kilometers from east to west and fifty-eight kilometers from north to south at its widest points, with the outer walls following the natural contours of the basin rather than forming a perfect geometric shape.

More than three thousand square kilometers of urban districts, estates, parks, waterways, military grounds, markets, workshops, warehouses, and undeveloped reserve land existed within those fortifications.

Great avenues divided the metropolis into broad sectors, while canals and tributaries descended from the surrounding mountains and crossed beneath hundreds of bridges.

Residential districts spread outward in dense layers. Commercial quarters clustered around major avenues and transportation hubs. Industrial districts occupied areas where smoke, noise, and heavy freight could be managed without choking the rest of the city.

Noble estates and residences belonging to important Vassal Houses occupied elevated districts farther inward, separated from the common quarters by gardens, walls, and enormous stretches of carefully maintained land.

At the northern end of the basin, the city gradually climbed toward the foothills where mountains rose like a colossal wall behind civilization.

And somewhere beyond those heights stood Helheim Academy itself.

From above, the arrangement made the hierarchy almost physical. Millions lived, traded, worked, celebrated, argued, raised families, and died within the metropolis below. Above them waited the institution responsible for producing the warriors who would one day defend, command, and expand the power that made such a city possible.

Sigurd knew none of that could properly prepare someone for seeing Helheim City from street level.

The moment his carriage emerged from beneath the gatehouse, his attention locked onto the world outside.

The avenue ahead was enormous, broad enough for several large convoys to travel beside one another without interfering, with raised pedestrian walkways running along both sides.

Hundreds of people moved through the area, yet the street never felt cramped. Carriages rolled between mounted travelers. Merchants pushed handcarts beneath colorful signs. Demonic Beast mounts occasionally passed among ordinary horses while guards stationed at intersections kept traffic flowing.

Buildings rose everywhere.

Some were five or six stories high, constructed from pale stone with dark timber balconies.

Others were enormous commercial structures occupying entire blocks, their fronts covered in signs announcing trading houses, restaurants, smithies, medicine halls, inns, and auction establishments.

Narrow towers rose between them, while farther away Sigurd could see buildings large enough to rival fortresses. Bridges crossed waterways between districts, and banners hanging from balconies moved beneath the mountain wind.

The convoy immediately attracted attention.

It was impossible not to.

Eight Grimhorn Warsteeds pulled the central carriage while armored guards maintained formation around the vehicles, but those things alone weren’t what made pedestrians stop and look. The the black and red Grandel crest displayed prominently across the convoy said everything necessary.

Sigurd heard murmurs almost immediately.

A man standing beside a fruit stall nudged his companion and lowered his voice, although not enough to escape Sigurd’s hearing. "Main Family. Look at the crest. Who’s inside?"

His companion watched the central carriage pass before answering, "Could be the Tenth Son. I heard he’s entering Helheim this year."

A woman nearby caught the conversation and turned toward them with obvious interest. "The youngest son? Wasn’t he the child who awakened a Legendary Martial Soul?"

"That’s what I heard," the second man replied.

"They say he’s a genius too. Apparently he formed his first Vis Core ridiculously young."

Someone farther back scoffed. "People say anything about Main Family children. Last week I heard his Martial Soul was Divine."

Another voice immediately joined in. "My cousin’s wife’s sister’s brother was near the Martial Soul Hall during his Soul Revelation. He said the entire sky changed."

The rumors multiplied as the carriage continued onward. Sigurd heard versions of his awakening that barely resembled what had actually happened.

In one, he’d summoned a creature that covered half the sky. In another, three Hall Elders had supposedly fainted from pressure. Someone confidently claimed Sigurd had already defeated a Master-ranked martial artist, which was impressive considering Sigurd himself had never heard about accomplishing such a thing.

He didn’t bother correcting anyone.

His attention remained on the city.

For nearly an hour, the convoy traveled deeper through Helheim City. The environment changed gradually rather than all at once. Dense commercial streets gave way to cleaner avenues lined with trees and ornamental waterways.

Crowds became thinner. Buildings stood farther apart, and the architecture became increasingly extravagant. Large residences appeared behind private walls, some bearing the insignia of noble families or Vassal Houses.

Gardens occupied spaces that could have held entire neighborhoods closer to the outer districts, while guards in different uniforms stood before private gates.

The road itself became quieter.

Sigurd leaned against the open window as the convoy climbed a gently rising avenue. From this elevation he could occasionally glimpse portions of the metropolis behind them between buildings, an ocean of rooftops extending toward the distant outer wall.

Beyond everything, mountains surrounded the basin, their peaks cutting into the evening sky.

Ottilie sat opposite him, equally occupied with the scenery despite maintaining considerably better composure.

When Sigurd noticed another enormous estate disappearing behind a wall of sculpted trees, he glanced toward her and remarked, "Mother neglected to mention she kept property here."

Ottilie smiled as though she’d been waiting for him to discover that. "Lady Sylvia owns more than one property you don’t know about, Young Master. You never asked."

Sigurd stared at her.

Ottilie’s smile widened.

He decided not to give her the satisfaction of responding.

The convoy turned onto another avenue where traffic had almost completely disappeared. Tall trees lined both sides of the road, their branches forming patches of shade over polished stone.

Decorative lamps stood between them, and behind long walls Sigurd could see the upper floors of mansions, private towers, training halls, and carefully maintained gardens.

Then the leading carriages slowed.

Sigurd straightened.

Ahead stood a gigantic metallic gate covered in gold and black detailing, supported by two massive stone pillars engraved with elegant patterns.

The gate alone was tall enough that several carriages could have been stacked beneath its central arch.

At its highest point rested the unmistakable crest of House Grandel, rendered in dark metal against a golden background.

Beneath it was another insignia.

Sigurd recognized that one immediately.

It belonged to Sylvia.

The estate beyond the gates was hers.

Guards stationed outside had already recognized the approaching convoy. The enormous gates began opening before Captain Hartwin reached them, their heavy sections moving inward with surprising silence.

Through the widening gap, Sigurd caught his first glimpse of a long stone avenue, fountains, sculpted gardens, and an immense residence standing far beyond them.

The carriage rolled through.

A few minutes later it came to a complete stop before the main entrance. One of the attendants opened the door from outside, and Sigurd rose, adjusted the sword at his waist, and stepped down.

His boots touched polished stone.

Sigurd lifted his head and looked at the luxurious entrance towering before him.

For the second time that day, he found himself wondering how many things his mother had quietly arranged without ever considering them worth mentioning.

Apparently, a private estate in Helheim City was one of them.