After the registration was completed, the registrar waved to them, "Come on, I'll take you to your accommodation."
He introduced himself as he walked, "My name is Harlom, from the Old Bone Tribe. It's my third year as a resident of Red Tide, and I'm responsible for receiving new residents in the outer city."
Kosa walked at the end, his pace slow initially, his eyes scanning the surroundings as if he were a small animal unfamiliar with the environment, instinctively wanting to keep a distance.
But the longer he walked, the more silent he became.
The road beneath his feet was paved with grayish-white stone bricks, each one astonishingly neat.
There was no mud on either side of the street, no scattered fodder, nor was there any sewage.
The drainage ditch was a semi-covered stone trough topped with an iron mesh, with clear water flowing inside, without even a trace of foam.
Kosa instinctively tightened his steps.
