At the steady beat of the horse's hooves, Furen turned his thoughts to the simple yet elegantly refined envelope he held in his hands.
He poured his spirituality into his right hand; a dark blue glow emanated from it, not bright enough to illuminate the interior of the carriage, but enough to give it a mysterious aura. Furen then reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, where he hid his dagger, and pulled it out.
The "Open" spell was useless against an obstacle that wasn't actually a door, but Furen placed the magical sheet against his skin, just above where the dagger lay. He felt it was the best way to use the two mystical objects he possessed. As for using the enchanted paper in combat, he preferred to save that for when the time came.
He made an impressively sharp gesture with his dagger and opened the letter's wax seal with a single stroke. The ease with which the blade cut made Furen nod in satisfaction—much more efficient than last time.
After replacing the dagger using his ability, he took the letter out of the envelope, placed it on the seat next to him, and began to read carefully.
As he expected, this letter was not as momentous as the one from the Abraham family, but it nevertheless contained important information.
"...First of all, I want to apologize for my haste and thoughtlessness. After so many years of separation, you can't imagine how much I've missed you, my friend from my days of study under Mr. Roman's tutelage.
Furen Freeman, you have always been the most worthy friend I have met there.
Although you remained silent most of the time, those who had the chance to interact with you knew how erudite you were.
All these years later, I'm glad to be able to reconnect.
…I hope to meet you again one day in the temple of knowledge. This time, we are no longer the ignorant youth of old, but scholars devoted to the quest for knowledge.
I don't know all the details of your life, but I know that you went through a tragedy that was difficult to bear.
Now, as your friend, I would like to invite you to complete what you left unfinished at Monsieur Roman's: to join the paradise of intellectual exchange among peers—a salon.
Thanks to the enthusiastic promotion of our dear Governor Roselle, the salons are now also held in cafes.
As you know, I am a fervent admirer of "The Child of Steam," and I believe that there is no place more conducive to intellectual exchange than a café.
I'm going there soon. Mr. Erich and I met all three of us at the library last time, to take part in a philosophical salon at the Café Écarlate on Trenk Street, in the Hoshino district.
I hope to have the honor of meeting you in Trenk Street on July 15 at 3 p.m. and to personally invite you to this philosophical meeting...
Quickly finishing reading, Furen lightly tapped his head. Nothing in this letter was particularly enigmatic; his only problem was that he had absolutely no concept of philosophy in this world.
As for attending, he had no doubt: he had to go. For him, who hoped to discover the world of mysticism for himself rather than simply following the path laid out by his father, this fair represented a dream opportunity.
He never imagined that Quevedo would come at such a timely moment, nor that he would help him so much after so many years of intimacy. However, philosophy forced him to urgently change his schedule: he had to at least read the theoretical basics before the meeting.
Showing up at a philosophy salon without understanding anything would have been humiliating; and for Furen, who desperately needed to rebuild a social network, it would be a blow.
He rubbed his head, placed the letter on the envelope, slipped the whole thing into his jacket pocket, then, not knowing what to do, looked up at the window.
It was a radiant day in Trier; the golden decorations on the houses, bright even at night, shone even more in the sunshine.
The light, however, was not blinding, which fascinated Furen and aroused his admiration for the expertise of the Intis artisans, masters in the art of gilding.
Intis well deserved its reputation as a country where gold was elevated to art. Throughout the journey, Furen marveled at the works of art passing by the window, so much so that he didn't even notice the time passing: the carriage had already passed the National Library in Trier, which he had visited the day before.
Finally, he arrived in front of the tavern "The Fire Axe." After paying the driver, he observed the establishment whose experience his father had so praised.
As soon as he got downstairs, a strong smell of urine reached his nose, the very smell of poverty at that time.
Even the poorest citizens, who were no longer destitute, did not have access to toilets or sewers worthy of the name: building a modern city would cost astronomical sums that no government of that era would dare to imagine.
The common people did not have the means to improve their daily lives.
In reality, even those who did not lack bread lived in fear of falling back into poverty: all it took was an illness or an accident to plunge them back into poverty, sometimes for life.
As for governments... no need to talk about them.
Among the royal families with supernatural powers, who really cared about the fate of the poor?
But back to the topic: "The Fire Axe" was nothing special. It wasn't a luxurious tavern; it hardly stood out from the neighboring buildings and even looked dirtier, typical of a working-class establishment.
The only good thing was that the inn was built of stone; many of the surrounding houses were still made of wood.
For Furen, who had never set foot in a poor neighborhood since arriving in this world, it was difficult to imagine: after all, he was in the capital of Intis!
The tavern's sign, slightly askew, bore in large letters "The Fire Axe," written in a vigorous hand that betrayed the undisciplined temperament of its author.
The door, meanwhile, was nothing like the elegant ones found in modern bars; it looked more like the ones you saw in taverns in manga like One Piece: heavy wooden swing doors that gave a glimpse of the interior and opened without much of a bang.
Furen's gaze betrayed a certain curiosity. After thinking about what to ask, he pushed open the door and entered this tavern from another time, a place mixing mystery and harshness in the eyes of a modern man like him.
(End of chapter)