At the last king’s council of Morocoy, Carlos Dolgette gathered all the nobles of the capital and conveyed to them that mad, irresponsible, foolish resolution.

"The age of Holy Light has come, and magic... must not die out on my watch." Carlos braced his hands on the table, the nobles unable to see the king’s complexion, "Morocoy will become a target of the Holy Light, this nation, will be engulfed in war until its destruction. Unless..."

"Unless we run away..."

"What?" Several nobles stood up abruptly, looking at their king in surprise, "You choose to flee! What about your responsibility! Your commitment! Where have they gone!"

Your subjects were prepared to fight to the death, why are you running away, Your Majesty!

Carlos looked coldly at the group of nobles, "Fight to the death? Can you defeat the Crusaders? Can you slay dragons? Those paladins are dragon slayers, what are we? We are the Kin Clan of dragons, minions to the dragons! By what means will you defeat them!"

An unprecedented crisis brought the martial faction to silence.

"But Your Majesty, how can our nation surrender before fighting, the glory of the Dolgette royal family, the brilliance of Morocoy..."

"Enough!" Carlos roared, plunging the council chambers into silence.

"To choose self-annihilation, to decay in the tomb. Since he is willing to abandon Morocoy, he clearly doesn’t care about that so-called glory."

"Nor will I..."

"But the people, they should not have to suffer because of this."

The nobles lowered their heads, unwilling to look at the king’s face, presuming it to be even more dejected than their own.

"How could the subjects without a king be happy..."

"They will be, because you will find a new king."

"Your Majesty, you..."

"I hereby announce the dissolution of Morocoy, all magic along with this country shall collapse; the nobles and their fiefs you may deal with as you wish. Whether you surrender to neighboring countries or declare yourselves kings. The Crusaders won’t make enemies with you without a magical figurehead."

The nobles were dumbstruck, staring at Carlos’s indifferent eyes.

"Then Your Majesty, what will you do?"

"I will tear my capital off the map, Moon Nafar, I will take this country’s roots, this country’s magic, and build a moving city, a city of magic. Abandon honor, forsake comfort, delve into mysteries."

A sovereign had chosen to let go, of power, of everything. As a part of that which was put aside, the nobles felt a storm of emotions.

"Carlos, Your Majesty." One noble removed his fur cloak, kicked over his chair, and knelt before the last monarch, "You gave the Dovran family everything, and since you are letting go of everything, I too will cast aside all that you bestowed upon me. But please... accept my loyalty."

"Let me and my family board your city, become your citizens." 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

"Laloyetie Dovran..." Carlos looked at his kneeling subject, his body shaking with emotion.

The appearance of the first loyalist spurred the indecisive nobles.

"The Diaz Family also wishes to follow in your footsteps..."

"The Lima Family feels the same..."

And so, Carlos Dolgette, with his followers, transformed his capital, Moon Nafar, into a moving magical city.

The City of Wandering.

On the day the magical power was activated, Dovran asked his king.

"Your Majesty, the tombs of the former kings, shall we..."

"Let them rest here."

"As you wish."

"Right, after my queen passed away, my child has been locking himself in his room. I recall your family has a boy of a similar age; why not let the two of them become playmates."

"Understood, Your Majesty, I will take good care of the prince."

"Wrong, you should call me city lord now, Mr. Dovran."

"Yes, my city lord."

During the grand competition event, the City of Wandering sank into an ocean of revelry.

In the central district where the Arcane Council is stationed, there is an inn.

In the restaurant on the first floor, two people sat face to face at the very center of the tavern with no other customers in sight, only the Arcanists’ guards standing erect outside the door.

The man dressed in a splendid robe recounted the story of the City of Wandering to his long-lost offspring.

His child had grown into a tall, sturdy man, the once wild mane of golden hair from his youth now a crew cut. His robust figure stood out like a behemoth among the common mages of the City of Wandering. The young man was devouring his food voraciously, which caused Laloyetie to frown slightly at such a ravenous display. But on seeing the bright, shining silver armor of a knight on his offspring, all dissatisfaction turned into approval, tinged with a bit of curiosity.

"Could it be that the pig feed of the Holy Light is more nourishing than our cuisine here? What have you been eating to grow so big..."

"Father!" The youth stopped his actions, his youthful visage furrowing in annoyance, "I can hear you!"

"So what if you can hear, would you use the Holy Light to judge your old man!"

The young man sighed, swallowing the last piece of meat.

"Father, I’ve heard the story of the City of Wandering eight hundred times now, can’t you tell me something new, my ears are calloused."

"Humph!" Laloyetie looked at his son, with long-held affection now turning into increasing disapproval, "It seems you’ve already forgotten your homeland, boy."

The young Paladin immediately retorted, "Hey! Don’t even start, if you guys had contacted me any later, I would have joined the Guardian Legion, and then, you’d have to fish me out from the Crusaders!"

Laloyetie banged the table, "Heartless brat, I think your brain’s been fried by the Holy Light."