I put up the most charming smile I can muster, "Do you happen to know any good places?"
She hesitates, then nods quickly. "Um—yes. I stay in the capital for most of the year. There's a small inn near the lower market district called The Silver Lantern. It's not too expensive, and the food's good. The owner's kind, too."
"That sounds perfect," I say. "If you don't mind, maybe you could show me the way when we arrive?"
Her blush deepens, but she nods shyly. "I—I don't mind."
"Thanks," I say, smiling again.
She ducks her head and goes quiet, though I notice the small smile tugging at her lips. For some reason, the air in the carriage feels lighter after that.
The line inches forward again. We're close enough now that I can see the guards clearly—armor glinting in the sunlight, halberds resting against their shoulders. The gate itself is enormous, wide enough for five wagons to pass side by side. Intricate carvings decorate the archway—dragons, vines, and a crest shaped like a rising sun.
As we roll closer, I can hear the murmur of the city beyond. Voices. The clang of hammers. The faint music of street performers drifting on the wind.
It's strange. I've been here barely a week, yet something about that sound—the life of it—makes my chest tighten with anticipation.
The merchant leans out and hands a few silver coins to the guard at the toll post. After a brief inspection of our carriage, we're waved through. The horses snort and the wheels creak as we finally pass under the gate and into the capital proper.
The moment we cross the threshold, my senses are assaulted by color and noise.
The streets are alive—crowded with merchants shouting prices, kids weaving between wagons, nobles in embroidered cloaks striding past like they own the world. Stalls line both sides of the road, selling everything from roasted nuts to glittering jewelry. The smell of spices, bread, and something sweet I can't quite place fills the air.
Buildings rise close together, made of pale stone and timber, their rooftops tiled in red and blue. Bright banners hang from balconies. Somewhere, a bard strums a lute, his music barely audible over the chaos.
I drink it all in.
This is it. My new world. My new start.
The merchant glances back at me, grinning. "Welcome to Elaris, young man."
I can't help but smile. "Thanks. It's… incredible."
Emily across from me nods, her eyes softening. "It really is."
We ride in silence for a while longer as the carriage makes its way through the busy streets. Eventually, the merchant drops us off near the marketplace, where he'll unload his goods. I climb down, stretching my sore legs, and sling my small pack over my shoulder.
Emily steps down after me, holding her skirt slightly to avoid the dust. She glances up, meeting my eyes briefly before looking away again.
"So… The Silver Lantern?" I ask.
She nods. "It's not far from here. Follow me."
As we start walking through the bustling streets of Elaris, I can't help but feel the weight of everything that's led to this moment—the truck, the death, the rebirth, the week of wandering. And now, finally, the first step toward something greater.
I'm walking directly behind Emily.
I follow quietly behind her, the bustle of the marketplace fading into the background as we walk. My legs ache from the carriage ride, but I ignore it
'I wonder how strong she is'. My curiosity got the better of me. I don't know why I hadn't bothered not checking before. 'Stupid me.'
I slash a quick gesture with my eyes — almost unconsciously — and activate my Basic Perception skill.
A translucent window appears in front of my vision.
[Status]
Name: Emily Lind
Age: 20
Level: 56
Talent: ★★★
Class: Healer
Constitution: N/A
Race: Human
I blink. Level 56. Three-star talent. No constitution. My heart skips. In the town we just left, most folk barely scraped level 10; the guards maybe level 20 at best. Her power is… on another tier entirely.
I keep pace behind her, forcing a calm expression. Internally, I'm impressed. I'm also a little unnerved. A healer of that calibre? She must have seen things most never do. And yet here she is, walking beside me, guiding the way to the next step of this journey.
I glance at her skirt, dusty at the hem, and then up at her face — just for a second — meeting her eyes before she looks away. The simplicity of her motion belies the strength the window showed. Her body was rather small, standing at just Five feet four inches, but I guess that is normal for women.
On that note, I couldn't help but appreciate her figure as she walked, even though Emily looked petite. The gentle sway of her hips was seductive, she drew my gaze like a magnet. Her curves were soft and inviting, hinting at the lithe figure beneath her simple dress.
Despite her small stature, I found himself mesmerized by her beauty. Her face was flawless, with high cheekbones, full lips, and eyes that sparkled with mischief. The way she moved through the street, her body swaying gracefully, was enthralling.
I had noted that her chest was rather modest, but what it lacked in size it made up for in shape. A slight bump just below her collarbone gave her breasts a teasing peek of softness, luring ,me to imagine what lay beneath.
I keep glancing at her, still shy, still flustered—and smile quietly to myself.
I couldn't help but imagine pinning Emily's lithe figure under me, her delicate frame would be perfect for me, just what I preferred in women. I would push my hard cock into her pussy, feeling it stretch and accommodate me. Then I would pound her from behind, thrusting in and out with powerful strokes as she moaned and writhed beneath me.
'Fuck, I'm getting hard.' Damn, being a virgin in two lives does not help either.
Chuckling lightly, I shake my head, clearing my dirty thoughts, and try to think of something else. It wouldn't help me to imagine what was yet to come, or what might never even come. Maybe I should give it a try, you know, try to flirt with her. She was very unlikely to push me away if I approached her, given her reactions up to now.
I mean, even recommending an inn to stay in, the same in she would probably be staying in, can be taken as a suggestive gesture, so it's not my fault. She's the naughty one.
It's funny. A week ago, I thought dying was the end of my story. Turns out, it was just the prologue.
And this?
'God, I just hope I get to bang her.'