Experience had taught Rayder that bringing three dragons into a large city was tantamount to pulling a tiger's teeth—reckless and dangerous. It would draw far too much attention, and their presence alone would cause an uproar. Riding dragons into Valantis would be the equivalent of sounding a warhorn; it was a risk he couldn't afford to take.Discretion was essential. His striking appearance—silver hair and rare violet eyes—was already enough to turn heads. Coupled with dragons, he would be instantly recognized, questioned, or worse—targeted.Instead, Rayder guided the dragons down into a dense, secluded forest on the outskirts of the city. Thick canopies of ancient trees shielded them from above, and the underbrush muffled the sound of their descent. It was the perfect place to keep the dragons hidden for now.Dismounting from Kidora, he gave the dragon a reassuring pat. The creature, sensing Rayder's resolve, responded with a low, contented rumble. He moved over to check on Im and Yigen, making sure all three dragons were safe and calm before he left them behind. Only once he was certain did he turn away.Rayder wouldn't bring the dragons into Valantis. Not yet. He needed to understand the situation first—observe the city, gather intelligence, and determine what awaited him inside. It was too dangerous to charge in blindly.Before leaving, he made some quick preparations. He strapped a thick, seemingly cumbersome shield onto his back, which served a dual purpose: defense and concealment. A longsword was sheathed at his hip, while two daggers were strapped to the inside of each thigh—just in case. He didn't carry much else, keeping his appearance modest, even ragged, in hopes of blending in as a weary traveler. The only flaw in his disguise was the tattered state of his clothes, which stood out in contrast to the city's prosperity.After a quiet farewell to the dragons, Rayder took a deep breath, parted the forest foliage, and began his trek toward Valantis.As he emerged from the forest into the outskirts of the city, the countryside came into view. A few peasants were working the fields or chatting along the roadside. To avoid drawing suspicion, Rayder approached one group casually, pretending to ask for directions.One of the villagers, an older man with a sun-worn face, chuckled and said, "Ah, that big city over there? That's Valantis—the southernmost jewel of the Free Federation, and one of the largest ports around."The confirmation settled something within Rayder. He fixed his gaze on the sprawling city in the distance. This was his destination.He stepped into Valantis just as the sun began to dip westward, casting golden hues across the white stone walls. The city's architecture was breathtaking—towering walls, elegant archways, broad streets that stretched toward the horizon. There was a timeless, flourishing aura about it. The place was alive.The streets were packed. Merchants hawked exotic goods under colorful canopies, sailors bellowed drunken songs, mercenaries patrolled with swaggering pride, and scholars in flowing robes strolled with scrolls tucked under their arms. People from every corner of the known world walked the streets: dark-skinned traders from the Summer Isles, pale nobles from the far North, sand-colored warriors from the Dornish deserts, and more. The air was thick with the sounds of shouting, laughter, foreign dialects, horse hooves clattering on cobblestones, and wheels grinding over uneven roads. Valantis pulsed with life.Rayder pulled his hood low, hiding his silver hair, but there was only so much he could mask. His violet eyes—so rare and distinct—remained visible. In an era where such features were almost unheard of, they acted as a beacon. He kept his gaze down, avoiding eye contact as much as possible.Despite his caution, Rayder felt something stir within him as he walked through the city. It had been a long time since he'd experienced the vibrant energy of human civilization. The sea breeze carried a mix of scents—salt, spices, freshly baked bread, grilled meats, sweat, and smoke. All of it brought back memories he thought he had buried.Convoys of camels and oxen passed by, laden with exotic wares. Guards in chainmail marched with disciplined precision. Loud taverns spilled drunkards into the streets, while children dashed between market stalls, laughing as they played. The tension Rayder had carried with him—wound tight by months of fighting, fleeing, and hiding—began to loosen, just slightly.But the moment of comfort was short-lived.His eyes narrowed as he spotted something ahead: a slave caravan. Chains rattled, and whips cracked. Emaciated men and women, some barely able to stand, shuffled forward in long, grim lines. Their necks bore thick iron yokes, and their bodies were scarred from beatings. Even children walked among them, their faces gaunt and eyes empty. They were treated like livestock.Rayder's expression darkened, the shadow of rage creeping over his face.He had never personally been a slave, but the memories of his past self—memories inherited when he awakened in this world—burned with pain and resentment. He remembered the terror of being hunted by slavers, the fear of being sold, the helplessness of hiding in the shadows with his family.With his silver hair and purple eyes, he would have been a prized possession in any slave market. Noble lords, greedy and perverse, would've fought to own him.His fists clenched. Knuckles turned white. It took every ounce of discipline to look away, to keep walking.He couldn't afford a confrontation. Not here. Not yet.He needed to eat, rest, and gather information. That was his priority.Rayder's eyes scanned the street. A brightly lit tavern with a large wine flag hanging over the door caught his attention. The sounds of laughter, drunken singing, and clinking glasses poured out from inside. Perfect.He walked to the door and pushed it open.Inside, the tavern was a chaotic scene of low-class revelry. The air was heavy with the smell of sweat, smoke, spilled ale, and cheap perfume. Every table was packed. Mercenaries clinked tankards over tales of battle. Sailors from foreign shores shouted obscenities across the room. A few young nobles, perhaps out slumming, played finger-guessing games and laughed obnoxiously.Rayder stepped in, hood still on, and made his way to the bar. He raised his head just enough to reveal his face—and those unmistakable purple eyes.With the confidence of a noble-born lord, he called out, "Innkeeper! Your best dish—and the finest red wine you have!"The bartender, a slick-looking middle-aged man with thinning hair and a suspicious squint, froze for a moment. He looked Rayder up and down—a kid no older than ten or eleven, dressed in ragged clothes, yet walking with the poise of a seasoned warrior. A heavy shield on his back, a sword at his hip—was he for real?The innkeeper's first instinct was caution. A street rat pretending to be someone important? A conman looking for a free meal?But before he could say a word, Rayder casually reached into his pouch and pulled out a gleaming gold coin.He slapped it on the bar.Silence fell for a heartbeat.The coin shimmered under the candlelight—thick, pure, and unmistakable. A gold dragon.In a tavern like this, such a coin could pay for a full week of indulgence.The bartender's demeanor instantly changed. His eyes sparkled as he scooped up the coin with almost reverent care. Then he straightened, flashing a toothy grin and bellowing toward the kitchen:"Bring out the best we've got! Roast beef! Spiced lamb! And the aged wine from the back cellar! We've got a proper guest tonight!"Rayder smirked faintly and took a seat.Within moments, steaming plates of roasted meat were placed before him. A tall glass of deep crimson wine followed, poured from an ornate bottle. The noise in the tavern resumed, but a few curious eyes lingered on Rayder, especially those who'd seen the coin.He ignored them. This was his first proper meal in weeks, and he intended to enjoy it.He ate slowly, savoring every bite. The meat was tender and juicy, the wine rich and smooth. For a moment, amidst the noise and chaos, he found something like peace.But his ears remained sharp, tuned to every whispered conversation, every name mentioned, every rumor passed in drunken breath. He wasn't just here to fill his stomach—he was here to learn.There was something stirring in Valantis.And Rayder would uncover it soon.---
Ãdvåñçé çhàptêr àvàilàble óñ pàtreøn (Gk31)