People here looked healthier, better fed. Their clothes, while still simple, were cleaner and less patched. Guards patrolled the streets in pairs, armor matching, movements disciplined.
Aiden sat quietly on the carriage, observing it all.
Compared to his old world, this place was still primitive, no towering buildings, no glowing screens, no humming machines. But within the limits of this era, Breim City was well-managed.
The caravan slowed as it entered the merchant district, splitting off toward different destinations. Escorts began climbing down, stretching stiff limbs and checking their gear.
Aiden stepped off the carriage, his bronze-grade undead following close behind. A few people glanced at the masked figure, but no one lingered for long. Breim City had seen all kinds, mercenaries, strange travelers. One more silent bodyguard didn't draw much attention.
As the caravan finished unloading near the merchant district, one of the merchants approached Aiden. He was the same plump man who had offered him a seat in the main carriage earlier, his robes dusty from the journey but his smile still warm.
"Sir Aiden," the merchant said, holding out a small pouch. "Here. This is your payment."
Aiden took it and weighed it in his palm. The weight was familiar.
"One gold coin?" Aiden asked, slightly surprised. "The agreed payment was only fifty silver coins."
The merchant chuckled and waved a hand. "That's true. But after seeing how your handled those bandit attacks on the road, I decided to add another fifty silver coins."
He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Consider it a token of my gratitude. Without you and your… subordinate, we might not have made it here in one piece."
Aiden glanced briefly at the bronze-grade undead standing beside him, then back at the merchant. He gave a small nod. "In that case, thank you. I'll accept it."
The merchant smiled even wider, clearly relieved. "If I ever travel the road again, I hope I'll have the chance to hire you once more."
Aiden slipped the pouch into his robe and stepped aside as the merchant turned back to his business. The clink of the coin inside was soft, but meaningful.
Aiden pulled his hood up, letting the shadow fall over his face. The city was busy, and he had no interest in standing out more than necessary.
With his undead following a step behind him, he moved deeper into Breim City. The streets here were wider than those in the town he'd left behind, paved with stone and lined with sturdy buildings two or three stories high.
Vendors shouted from open stalls, the smell of cooked meat and spices drifting through the air. People brushed past one another without a second glance, merchants, guards, laborers, and travelers from all over the region.
No one paid him much attention.
That was exactly what he wanted.
Aiden scanned the street signs and the buildings as he walked. He wasn't looking for anything luxurious, no polished marble floors or private courtyards. Just a place to sleep, somewhere cheap and quiet where questions wouldn't be asked.
They passed a grand inn with painted walls and lanterns hanging from carved wooden beams. Well-dressed guests stood outside, laughing as servants carried their luggage inside.
Aiden didn't slow down.
Instead, he turned onto a narrower side street where the noise softened and the crowds thinned. The buildings here were older, their signs weathered, their doors worn smooth by time. Near the end of the street, he spotted what he was looking for.
A modest inn stood there, its wooden sign swaying slightly in the breeze. The name was faded, and the windows were simple, but the place looked clean enough.
Aiden stopped.
"This will do," he murmured.
His undead halted beside him, silent and obedient.
Without hesitation, Aiden pushed open the door and stepped inside, ready to settle in and plan his next move in the city.
When he stepped inside the inn, he was a little surprised.
He had expected an old man with a tired face, or perhaps a gruff woman who had seen too many travelers come and go. Instead, standing behind the wooden counter was a teenage girl.
She looked to be around twenty one, with tied-back dark hair and bright, alert eyes. Her clothes were simple, a plain tunic and apron, but clean and well-kept. When she saw Aiden enter, her face lit up with a warm smile.
"Welcome!" she said cheerfully. "You must be tired from traveling."
Aiden paused for half a heartbeat, then nodded. "I am."
The girl clasped her hands together. "My name is Lira. I help run this place."
She gestured around with a small sweep of her hand. The inn was modest but comfortable. A few wooden tables filled the common area, their surfaces scratched from years of use. A fireplace crackled softly at the far end, and the smell of stew lingered in the air.