Creation System: Reborn As A Fantasy Worldsmith

The chariot moved closer as Lyrian finally caught a glimpse of it through the commotion. Immediately, his eyes widened slightly in shock as he noticed the four people carrying the chariot on their backs.

They had rusty chains around their necks and feet, looking to be dirty and scar-filled, with faces of pure despair and eyes that were rid of any emotion.

This sent a slight shock to Lyrian's system, as he found it peculiar that people weren't even batting an eye to the slaves under the chariot, but instead were directing all their attention to those on top.

Speaking of which, there were four people atop the chariot that Lyrian immediately noticed as it approached closer.

First, he saw a luxuriously robed man with a tall stature and a long brown beard. From the looks on his face that smiled slightly and waved to the people down below, he seemed to be in his mid-thirties.

Just from first impressions, Lyrian could tell that this man possessed some sort of power behind his eyes.

He didn't know exactly what it was, but it almost felt like the aura around the man was denser than usual.

'Scan,' Lyrian said in his mind.

[Error! The target's power level is too high to scan]

[Increasing your mastery of the Scan skill will enable you to scan individuals with higher power levels]

'...'

Standing beside the man was a woman in an elegant black dress, her polite smile captivating the crowd.

Like the man, she appeared quite young, leading Lyrian to assume they were a married couple.

Beneath a regal umbrella, they stood tall, projecting an air of authority. However, behind them sat two children of the same age, around nine years old, who seemed disinterested and unaffected.

Their expressions remained neutral, neither smiling nor waving, revealing nothing of their true emotions.

A quick glance was enough for Lyrian to make assumptions about the children's nature.

They reminded him of his "family" back on Earth—people who harbored disdain for those they deemed inferior.

As the chariot finally made its way right in front of Lyrian, he first gazed at the eyes of every individual below the vehicle.

He took a short moment to stare curiously at their eyes, bodies, and faces.

His gaze lingered on them for a brief moment, his curiosity driving him to observe every detail.

As Lyrian carefully observed each person, a glimmer of recognition flashed in the man's eyes perched atop the chariot.

He couldn't help but notice the peculiar boy, the sole individual in the crowd who dared to divert his gaze from the man himself and instead fixate on the slaves.

After thoroughly examining everyone, Lyrian's eyes finally lifted, locking directly with the man in an unexpected connection.

Because of the slight distress, Lyrian felt from looking at those humans who had pure despair in their eyes, his eyes narrowed, and his brows furrowed, unintentionally revealing his inner turmoil.

This wasn't a great look to have when staring directly at the eyes of a man who looked back with a curious intensity of his own.

Seeing that man's face for even a split second made Lyrian slightly angrier, as he imagined only the worst of scum using other people to carry him.

Because of that slight anger, some of Lyrian's aura was directed towards Theagard, causing killing intent to be solely shown to him as well.

The man's eyes widened just a fraction, a glimmer of realization dancing within them as he sensed a faint but unmistakable air of danger radiating from the boy before him.

A question formed in his mind, laced with intrigue and a touch of caution. "Bloodlust?" he mused silently, recognizing the raw, untamed essence of deadly intent emanating from Lyrian.

As the chariot passed, Theagard switched his gaze to the rest of the crowd and began to smile and wave once again, and Lyrian carried on his way home through an alleyway.

'He comes every year? June 25th huh?' He decided to mark it in his head.

It was interesting to see that, but Lyrian didn't really care too much about it either. Right now, he simply wanted to get home before darkness settled.

As Lyrian strolled down the alley that branched off the bustling main street, he came across a group of familiar kids blocking his path.

Giving their faces a closer look, he couldn't help but recognize them.

There was a chubby, short one, a tall and skinny one, and a pompous-looking redhead in the middle with a head full of spiky hair.

"No doubt about it," Lyrian thought.

The trio seemed engrossed in their little game, oblivious to Lyrian's approach.

But as his footsteps echoed through the alley, they all turned in unison. Their eyes locked with Lyrian's as he casually made his way toward them.

For a moment, all three of them just stared, but then the chubby one burst into laughter.

"Well, well, well! If it ain't mister 'I got the crap kicked outta me'!" he jeered, laughing his ass off.

"What's that, tubby? He knocked you flat on your rear the last time, don't think I forgot!" Cedric, the red-haired boy, retorted, quickly shutting down the laughter.

"Look at him strutting so confidently! Does he think he can take us on now that he's grown a bit taller and..." The lanky one trailed off, his confidence wavering as he noticed Lyrian's surprisingly toned physique.

"And a little more muscle, I guess," he added with slightly less bravado.

"Hah! Are you getting scared, huh? Don't you know whose side you're on?" Cedric chimed in.

"You know what? You're right!" the lanky one conceded.

As Lyrian drew nearer, he caught sight of a small dog tied up behind them, its limbs bound with rope and its mouth gagged with a cloth to stifle its barks.

Instantly, a shock ran through Lyrian. "These... bastards."

The chubby one stepped forward, just like last time, ready to halt Lyrian's progress.

"You can't just walk past us like that. Your lucky punch won't work this time, Theageld," he sneered, confident that he could stop Lyrian in his tracks.

But without warning, Lyrian unleashed a powerful punch straight into the chubby bully's gut.

The air was forcefully expelled from his lungs as his arms flailed and his eyes rolled back into his skull.

With a thud, his hefty body slumped to the ground, a deep fist mark etched on his belly.

"I've been wanting to meet you three again," Lyrian said with a sudden grin spreading across his face.