After an hour and a half, as the murmur of the crowd gradually grew into a constant buzz, the carriage ca to a stop with a faint creak of wood and the weary squeak of the wheels.
Adam opened his eyes lazily, his brow slightly furrowed. Sleep still weighed on his mind, vague yet unsettling, as if sothing within him refused to fade away completely.
He blinked a couple of tis, adjusting to the light filtering through the cracks in the carriage.
Then...
The sounds of the city hit him all at once.
The shouts of vendors hawking their wares, voices overlapping in a chaos that was hard to follow.
The patter of footsteps on stone.
The scraping of boxes.
Laughter, argunts, haggling.
The salty sll of the sea mingled with hot food, intense spices, and coal smoke—heavy, almost sticky in the air.
Bretan.
Adam stepped down from the carriage calmly, setting first one foot and then the other on the stone pavent. His boots echoed with a sharp, firm sound, slightly muffled by the dust that had settled on the street.
The air was more humid than he had expected.
It clung to his skin.
All around him, people kept moving.
A constant, almost unstoppable flow.
rchants carrying reinforced wooden crates, so marked with symbols Adam didn’t imdiately recognize.
Sailors in worn-out clothes, soaked in salt and sweat, their skin weathered by the sun.
Ard adventurers walked among them, wearing tattered cloaks, their weapons visible, their eyes weary... but alert.
Adam adjusted his clothes slightly and moved forward.
He was in no hurry.
Not for now, anyway.
After days of travel, all he wanted was sothing simple.
Eating.
His eyes scanned the streets as he walked. He observed without seeming to, taking in every corner, every shadow, every person who passed by.
After a few minutes of walking through the bustle, his eyes settled on a two-story wooden building.
A sign hung above the entrance, swaying gently in the wind.
An inn.
Adam went inside.
The street noise faded imdiately, replaced by a more subdued murmur. Warm torches lighted the interior, and the air was thicker, heavy with the scent of roasted at, fresh bread, and beer.
Several tables were occupied.
n were laughing.
Others were arguing in hushed tones.
A group of rcenaries was drinking in a corner.
Adam made his way over without drawing too much attention to himself and sat down at an empty table near the wall.
A waitress approached shortly afterward.
"What would you like, sir?"
Adam looked up.
"Sothing hot. Whatever you have ready."
The woman nodded and walked away without asking any further questions.
Adam rested his arms lightly on the table.
The food arrived shortly afterward.
A simple dish.
at, thick and poorly cut, with the edges barely seared and the center still moist. The fat had lted and was slowly pooling on the wooden plate, mixing with the dark juices that left a shiny trail in the dim light.
Coarse bread, with a hard, cracked crust and patches of unevenly distributed flour. When broken, the inside was dense, slightly moist, as if it hadn’t quite finished baking.
The dish was lukewarm, not hot.
Adam watched him for a few seconds. Then he began to eat, and the taste was... normal.
Each bite filled the void he had ignored throughout the entire journey.
For a few minutes, he thought of nothing.
All around him, the conversations continued.
Snippets reached his ears.
"...they say that up north... a caravan disappeared and the price of mana stones went up again..."
So the barbarians are already preparing for their second attack...
Upon hearing this, mories of his past life surfaced in Adam’s mind.
If he wasn’t mistaken, the rise in the value of mana stones in the north had a single cause: a massive attack by the barbarians who lived near those lands.
They were not enemies with whom one could negotiate.
Years of war had proven it: between them and the north, the only possible truce was the total annihilation of one side.
But that was none of his concern.
His family’s territory was already on the brink of collapse. He had no reason to get involved in a war that didn’t concern him.
Not long after, he set his cutlery down on the wooden table, the faint clink of tal breaking the murmur of the room.
He exhaled slowly, letting the air trapped in his lungs escape.
His body felt lighter, as if an invisible pressure had dissipated... though not entirely.
Adam raised his gaze slightly, his eyes scanning the surroundings with asured calm.
The tavern was full, but the atmosphere was not relaxed; low voices, evasive glances, barely contained tension.
That’s when he noticed it.
At one of the nearby tables, a group of n was staring at him openly.
Realizing where this was headed, Adam released a fraction of his mana.
It wasn’t an explosion or anything visible... just a subtle pressure that radiated from his body, rippling through the heavy air of the inn.
The candle flas flickered slightly.
The murmur of the room seed to falter for an instant.
His aura made one thing clear: a mid-ranking knight.
He had no intention of playing along with those guys, who, from the very beginning, had made no secret of their bad intentions.
Leaning back calmly in his seat, Adam watched out of the corner of his eye.
The reaction was imdiate.
The group of n tensed up, as if an invisible hand had gripped their chests.
The ssage had been understood.
Much better.
Adam stayed at the inn a little longer, ignoring the background noise and the sll of stale food mixed with spilled beer.
He still had unfinished business.
Before leaving, he had to et with the rchants to whom he had offered his protection services.
...
Night had already fallen completely over the city, shrouding the streets in a thick gloom, barely broken by poorly maintained oil lamps.
Not far from there, in the city center, stood the local lord’s residence.
A sprawling structure, surrounded by stone walls and guarded by armored sentries. It wasn’t an imposing place... but it was solid enough to remind everyone who was in charge.
Adam walked forward without hesitation.
The guards saw him approaching and, almost instinctively, tensed up. One of them stepped forward.
"Identify yourself."
Adam didn’t answer right away. His gaze lingered briefly on the man... and then he replied:
"Adam Hall."
The guard paled slightly.
"...Go ahead."
He asked no further questions.
Adam walked through the doors.
The interior was warr, but no more welcoming.
Torches lined the walls, illuminating a long hallway decorated with old, worn tapestries depicting past victories... likely exaggerated ones.
A servant stopped him halfway down the hallway.
"Noble Adam?"
He nodded.
"This way."
He led him in silence.
As they walked, the murmur of voices grew louder.
The eting room was spacious, with a long, dark wooden table taking up the center. Several figures were already there, dressed in expensive yet practical clothing: rchants.
n who knew how to count coins... and lose them.
When Adam walked in, all eyes turned to him.
At the head of the table sat the town’s lord.
An older man with a stern face and sunken eyes, dressed in fine clothes that could not hide his weariness.
Adam took one of the empty seats.
Silence fell for a mont.
One of the rchants, the sa one he had dealt with, was the first to speak.
"Sir... I’m glad you ca."
Adam gave a faint smile, barely a curve of his lips.
"It was the least I could do before continuing on my journey."
The stern-faced older man—the nobleman of that territory—stepped forward. His dark cloak brushed softly against the stone floor, breaking the silence that had begun to settle.
"You cannot leave yet. We need your help."
"..."
Adam was silent for a mont. His eyes swept across the room: the rchants, tense; the guards, stiff; the nobleman, expectant.
"I’m sorry. I can’t help you."
He mustn’t get involved. Not now. He had a clear goal, one that brooked no deviation.
Staying... would be like destroying the Hall territory with his own hands.
Exactly what he had been trying to avoid.
The man let out a long sigh, as if that answer were exactly what he had feared hearing.
"We need you to escort the princess who is in my territory."
Adam looked up slightly.
"Is the princess in this city?"
"Yes."
"..."
Silence fell once more, even heavier this ti.
Outside, the wind gently patted against the windows, carrying with it the distant murmur of the city.
Adam stood motionless.
Now, more than ever... he wanted to stay.
He frowned.
Sothing didn’t add up. The princess shouldn’t be in Bretan. According to his mories of his past life, that was supposed to happen in a few months, and at that ti, an incident would shake the entire kingdom.
Without a second thought, Adam got up from the table and started to leave, with voices ringing out behind him.
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