It was such an odd, perplexing encounter without little clue of its purpose that he chose to bury it in his mind for now, going on his way again.
Eventually, he managed to wander his way back to the inn, entering through the flower-decorated door as he found a wizened, old man standing at the reception desk.
“How can I help you, lad?” The silver-haired man asked, setting his book down.
He scratched his cheek, “Err, my companion checked in here. A tall guy, darkly dressed, got a lot of scars–ring a bell?”
It seed the old man was a bit sluggish in the thinking departnt as he humd for a minute before slowly nodding, “…Ah, yes, yes. He said a “little brat with hair that doesn’t know if it wants to be black or gold will show up, so show him to the room”–that’s what he told .”
“Yeah, that’s …” He smiled wryly.
You didn’t have to be honest, old guy! He thought.
He was guided down the corridor of the inn, being brought to the designated room by the old man, who had to use a cane to walk.
“It’s right here, lad,” the old man told him..
He nodded and smiled, “Thanks.”
As the wizened inn manager walked away, he opened the door to the room, hoping to find his companion asleep, but that was not the case.
There was imdiately a shift in temperature between that room and the rest of the inn. In the center, within the free space away from the two beds, the platinum-eyed man was on the floor, engaging in what looked to be a rigorous circuit of pushups.
“Four-hundred-ninety-nine…five-hundred…” Vandread counted.
The man finally seed to acknowledge his presence once finishing his pushups, standing up and looking at the boy as he wiped the sweat from his body with a towel.
Five-hundred?! He thought.
It was his first ti seeing Vandread outside of his standard gear–the man was without a shirt, wearing only his black, baggy trousers as his scarred, brown-skinned torso was on display.
“You stayed out awhile,” Vandread said.
Though it seed the sweat-laden man could care less that the boy had stayed out throughout the duration of the day, as he held that sa stoic expression on his fair, but scarred face.
“…Yeah, I got so new gear,” he said.
Vandread grabbed his canteen of water, taking a large gulp of it before responding, “Did you at least haggle for it?”
“Err, no?” He replied.
“Rookie mistake,” Vandread told him.
Before he could respond, he witnessed the man drop back down to the floor, returning to his workout session as he began cranking out sit-ups with fearso speed.
This guy is a total nutjob…It’s pretty much midnight by now, isn’t it?! He thought.
He set his sword and staff beside the bed before crawling under the blankets, trying to obtain so sleep, though he had to suffer through Vandread’s constant sharp breaths and grunts as the man continued his exercises.
…This guy has no regard for my rest! He thought.
In order to actually fall asleep, he was forced to put his pillow over his head to muffle out the sounds of Vandread’s vigorous, seemingly non-stop workout routine.
–
With the coming morning, he was awoken not by the chirps of the sunrise birds or the noise of the town, but by the room-filling snoring coming from the bed beside him.
Are you kidding ?! He thought.
As he sat up, he looked over in the nearby bed to see Vandread, sprawled across his own bed and snoring out like a bear.
He didn’t snore at all when we were in the carriage. Is this his “lax mode” or sothing?! He thought.
Either way, the ambient sound of snoring quickly forced him out of bed as he left the room and ventured out into the morning streets of Elsia.
He put his hand over his stomach, feeling it yearn for so early morning grub.
Breakfast. I bet I can find sothing good around here, he thought.
There was a certain feeling that ca with walking through the streets of the city in the bright morning–watching as carriages drove by and adventurers went on their way–so carrying quests in their hands with a mission ahead of them, and so seeking out their own quests.
It was “Independence”–he felt one step closer to being just like them.
Equipped with his staff and sword at his hip, with his green cape flowing behind him, he already felt like he belonged, though he was definitely a few inches short from truly fitting in with the majority of adventurers.
Maybe I can just say I’m a half-dwarf or sothing…He thought.
He nodded to himself before looking up, surveying the area for a good place to grab breakfast. There wasn’t a lack of options–not by a long shot.
Cafes were present, which seed almost a bit progressive for a dieval world; establishnts exuded aromas of morning dishes like eggs, sausage, and the alluring scent of bacon.
…Am I picky? No, that’s not it. There’s just too many options! How do I choose?! I also saved this money for a while–so I want maximum value from every coin, he thought.
He managed to find himself in front of a small diner, captured by the overwhelming scent that resembled the sweet nectarine of syrup.
Could it be?! He thought.
It was sothing he had longed for since coming to this world; in his previous life, most foods were off the table for him due to his condition–so coming into this life, he planned to make up for his previous by trying as many foods as he could.
Syrup had been high on the last, for so reason.
The miracle sauce! I’ve never seen sobody use it that walked away disappointed! It always makes them eat every last scrape off their plate–hell, I’ve even seen people lick their plate clean if it’s syrup! He thought.
Such a sll invoked this mission within him as he entered through the front door, finding himself in a cozy, wooden establishnt. It was already warm inside, due to a fireplace that burned calmly in the center.
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