Transmigrated as a Ghost

“Looks like we have arrived.” Mrazivý said, looking out the carriage window and down the street.

The main area of the Muharib Festival was held near the southern shore of Antim Lake and spread out for several dozens of kilometers.

Over the festival course, that lasted for several weeks, it was expected that around ninety percent of the city’s population would come to watch or participate in the festival.

This would constitute several million unique individuals and the amount of space being dedicated to the festival showed just how popular it was.

Along the streets all manner of facilities, shops, and attractions were set up.

Even still in their carriage Marcus could smell the fragrance of the strong spices typically used in the cooking of Aezam.

“Unfortunately, we will have to go on foot from here. The roads are simply too packed to continue by carriage.” Amira said.

Of course, Marcus and Mrazivý already knew this and were in fact looking forward to it. There was simply no way that they would be able to enjoy the festivities from inside a carriage.

Amira on the other hand looked tense. This was going to be her first time seeing the festival and walking through such crowded and hectic streets.

Beforehand her guards had been very insistent that they stay close to them at all times. The festival was often accompanied by random fights breaking out and pickpockets attempting to take the possessions off of unsuspecting victims.

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“We stay by what we aid earlier, Amira. If you want to stay behind, you can. Just assign one of your guards to go with us and I am sure we will be fine.” Marcus said, seeing the fearful expression Amira was wearing.

“No, this is my job. I am your guide. The two of you stood up for me against Jamal and it would be disgraceful for me not to compete my duty simply because I am nervous.” Amira said, erasing as much emotion as she could from her face.

For how anxious she was, she managed to do a good job, but Marcus could still see the unease in her eyes.

“Well, let’s get going then. It may only be the first day, but there is still plenty for us to do.” Mrazivý said, opening the carriage door and getting out.

Marcus quickly followed after her, and Amira along with her head guard came out just a couple moments later.

Within a few seconds their group attracted a fair amount of attention for the numerous other people getting out of their carriages and heading to the streets where the festivities were begin held.

Marcus and Mrazivý naturally drew people’s gazes, as the number of foreigners in the capital city was quite low. In Tijara, which was a trade city, there were quite a few and it was not rare to find those of many different races walking the streets, but in the capital their were far fewer nonnatives. In the vicinity, Marcus and Mrazivý were the only ones.

Still, after the time they had spent going around the city, both of them were used to being stared at and headed down the street without being bothered.

Immediately they were greeted by the bustling festival grounds.

Even where they were on the outskirts was filled with people.

Tents serving food and drinks were in the majority in this area and numerous individuals were stopping to pick up snacks that they ate while moving towards the heart of the festival.

Marcus being interested in the cuisine being offered stopped at every stall that was serving unique fare he had not already tried.

By the time they made it to an area that was not filled only with businesses offering food, Marcus had already eaten enough to make Amira worried for his health.

Soon a tent on the larger side caught Mrazivý’s interest, and when Marcus read the sign outside, he saw that it said, ‘Dragon Races.’

Heading into the tent with Mrazivý, Marcus saw that there were certainly no dragons within the tent.

In the middle there was a miniature circular race track with eight small lizards the inhabited the desert locked within.

These were the so called ‘dragons’ and Marcus quickly caught on to what as going on here.

“Step right up and place your bets on which of these ‘dragons’ is the fastest. There is only two minutes before the first race.” The owner of the tent said.

A small crowd had already gathered attracted by the novelty, and a box filled with coins was jangling in the man’s arms.

“Five silvers on number seven.” Mrazivý said, handing over the money to the man.

He happily took her money with a smile before giving her a small piece of stone in the shape of a rectangle that had the number one to denote the race and the number seven to denote which lizard Mrazivý had bet on carved into it.

“Mraz, you remember what happened last time you tried gambling.” Marcus said, his tone harsh.

“Yeah, I remember. I promise I will not let it get out of hand. We are at a festival. It is just a little fun.”

Nevertheless, Marcus did not relax simply because Mrazivý was trying to assuage his worries. If it came down to it, he was prepared to drag her away again.

“And let the race, begin!” The owner of the tent said, opening the gates on the lizards’ cages.

Immediately all eight of the lizards began rushing out. Presumably trained in some way in order to make them run as fast as they could.

“Wahoo! I won!” Mrazivý shouted at the end of the race.

By some miracle the seventh lizard managed to eek out a victory and come in first place.

For most fo the race it had been sticking in the middle, but at the very end it shot out with a huge burst of energy to barely overtake the leader.

Unfortunately, Mrazivý’s luck did not hold out. By the fourth race she had lost three times in a row and was now intently staring at the cages, her bet for the fifth race in hand.

At this point Marcus was going to let her have one more before insisting that they leave, but when the man running the gate opened the cages, only one of the lizards ran out this time.

This was because of the pressure Mrazivý was unconsciously exuding on all of the lizards except the one she had bet on.

Yet once the lizard had finished the race, no one was cheering, and instead wore baffled expressions.

“What the hell!?” The owner of the tent said.

He had never seen the lizards act this way before. All but the one that had been excluded from Mrazivý’s pressure were curled up in their cages trying to look as small as possible.

“Okay, I think that is enough. No more games of chance for you. Let us go find something that takes skill instead.” Marcus said, pulling on Mrazivý’s arm.

“Yeah. I am coming.” Mrazivý said, her head hung low. She now realized what exactly had happened and understood that she could not continue playing this game.

When they exited the tent, they moved away from the area in search of other attractions.

Not long after they made their way to a street that emptied out into a large square that was filled to the brim with people.

In the center of the square was a sizable stage that several people were standing on top of.

“All those who wish to prove their skill with a blade step right up. Only the most accomplished fighters will be able to cut through our pillars of clay fast enough to win our amazing prizes.” A man on stage said.

Looking up on the stage Marcus saw that their were several two meter tall a quarter of a meter thick pillars of unhardened clay lined up on the stage.

“The rules are simple. All one needs to do is cut through the pillars of clay as many times as they can in five seconds. Those that can cut through twenty times int his time will receive access to choose from our third tier prize pool, those that can achieve forty cuts can choose from our second tier prize pool, and sixty cuts and you get the honor of choosing for our first tier prizes.” The announcer promoting the game said.

He then described what could be won in each prize tier.

For the third tier the prizes were worth around the same amount as the entry fee, for the second they were around three times more valuable, and the tier one prizes were ten times the value of the entry fee.

“Of course, there is one more item that can be won, but only by someone that is truly exceptional. If anyone of you is capable of cutting the pillar into two hundred pieces before the five seconds are up, you would win our grand prize.” The man said, having two of his security guards hold up a talon that was far larger than their bodies.

The crowd broke out into cheer seeing it, since the item gave off a golden sheen and clearly looked incredibly valuable.

“This talon was found deep in the desert and was identified by an expert on the beasts to be the talon from a roc. I am sure that all of you have heard tales about this epic grade beast that is said to fly over the desert and cast shadows that block out the sun due to its enormous body. This is not the type of material that just anyone can get ahold of. Many great warriors have the talons of rocs used in the creation of their weapons and the person that can win this talon would certainly be worthy of having such a weapon created for themselves. Or perhaps you simply wish to display it in your home. A trophy of your victory here today. Or, you may simply want it for its value. I can assure you that this roc talon is worth far more than our measly entry fee of five gold coins.”

After the man finished showing off the talon, he beckoned those confident in their skills to try and win.

Immediately several strong looking individuals lined up and began paying the five gold coin entry fee.

“Marcus, we are entering. That talon he just showed off, does not belong to a roc. That is the talon of a phoenix.”