The morning after my final night with Belle and Ria, I woke to find the tavern quieter than I'd ever heard it. The warmth of the hearth still lingered in the air, but the laughter and chatter that had filled the place for weeks were gone.
Ria was nowhere to be seen. According to Belle, she'd slipped out before sunrise, saying that a proper farewell would only make it harder for her. That sounded like her, strong-willed, proud, but too soft-hearted for her own good.
Belle, on the other hand, refused to say "goodbye" at all. "It's bad luck," she said, standing by the door with her hands on her hips and that familiar, teasing smile. "If I tell you goodbye, it'll sound like we'll never meet again. So instead…"
She leaned in, kissed me deeply, and whispered, "See you soon."
It wasn't farewell, it was a promise.
A small crowd had gathered by the time I reached the village square. The guards, Claire, some of the townsfolk, even a few of the volunteers who had fought on the wall during the goblin raid, all had come to see me off. I thanked them each in turn, shaking hands, sharing smiles, and promising to send word from the city.
The carriage waited at the gates: a sturdy, enclosed wagon drawn by two large horses. My seat was already arranged thanks to Belle's help.
The moment I climbed aboard and the wheels began to turn, a strange feeling came over me: a mixture of excitement and melancholy. The village that had taken me in and given me a new start faded into the distance behind us. Ahead lay the sprawling city of Merlyt, the capital of the Falorin Domain.
On foot, the journey would have taken three days, but the horse-drawn carriage cut it down to a long overnight trip. That said, "comfortable" was not a word I'd use to describe the experience. The lack of proper suspension meant every rock and rut in the road sent a jolt up my spine.
Sharing the carriage with me were three women. Two were middle-aged villagers: kind-faced, polite, and eager to talk about the goblin attack. They were on their way to buy supplies for the upcoming winter.
They recognized me, of course, and thanked me several times for helping save their homes. Beyond that, though, they kept to themselves, whispering softly between each other.
The third passenger was a teenage girl named Elen, barely sixteen, with ink-stained fingers and bright eyes. She was traveling to Merlyt to begin an apprenticeship as a bookkeeper at a merchant company. Her excitement was infectious, and she spent much of the first half of the journey peppering me with questions about crafting, adventurers, and "the outside world."
The driver, a tough-looking woman in her thirties, sat up front, armed with a sword and a shortbow. From what she told me, the roads were mostly safe these days, though bandits occasionally tried their luck near the woods. She wasn't worried. I believed her.
As the sun began to dip, we stopped at one of the designated rest areas that dotted the trade route. The place was simple, a fenced clearing with a wooden stable, a stone well, and a few fire pits surrounded by benches. Functional, if not exactly welcoming.
"No monsters in this area for years," the driver said as she tied off the reins. "Worst we might see are wild boars. Still, stay within the fence, just in case."
Sound advice, but I had other plans.
During my resource trip with Ria, Josey, and Daisy, I'd realized how inconvenient building a hut and then tearing it down all the time would be, however, I wasn't about to spend nights sleeping on damp ground while gnats chewed on me.
So, I made something better.
Using the hides salvaged from goblins, combined with a few low-grade magic stones, I'd crafted the perfect portable home: a yurt.
Six feet tall and eleven feet across, it wasn't grand by any means, but it was comfortable. The outer canopy had temperature-regulating enchantments woven directly into the material, keeping it cool in the heat and warm in the chill. The best part? It could be stored in my inventory fully assembled. Setting it up took a fraction of a second.
With a thought, I summoned it beside the carriage. The others gasped softly as the small structure appeared out of thin air, perfectly formed. I smiled and waved them off.
Inside, the yurt was surprisingly cozy. I'd lined the floor with a shag-like carpet: soft, warm, and resistant to moisture. A small section near the entrance held my cook station and water boiler, while a miniature bath, modeled after the wooden tub back at the village, sat neatly partitioned behind a folding screen.
I started by heating water for a bath. The steam filled the space quickly, carrying with it a faint floral scent from the soap I'd made. When I finally lowered myself into the water, it felt like all the tension of the road melted away.
Afterward, I dried off, pulled on a fresh shirt, and sat at the low table I'd placed in the center of the yurt. Dinner consisted of cartoon meat on the bone, and skewers of grilled vegetables drizzled with a sauce. I washed it all down with a bottle of red wine Belle had insisted I take with me.
The food was delicious, but it wasn't quite the same without their laughter echoing around me.
Once I finished eating, I laid out my bed. I'd gone for comfort over elegance: a Japanese-style futon made of dense, quilted fabric laid atop the carpet. The texture reminded me of soft moss. I spread a thick blanket over it and fluffed the pillow.
As I settled in, I couldn't help but compare it to my old world. Back then, my apartment had been a concrete box with a creaky bed and a drafty window. I'd worked long hours, paid off my parents' debts, and lived on instant noodles. Comfort was a luxury I couldn't afford.
Now, lying beneath enchanted fabric under a sky full of stars, I realized just how far I'd come.
Still, as the night deepened and the sounds of the road faded, a pang of loneliness crept in. I missed Belle's teasing voice. I missed Ria's warmth when she'd curl up beside me. Even the faint smell of ale and baking bread that clung to the tavern's walls haunted me.
Tomorrow, I'd reach Merlyt: the regional capital, home to more than four hundred thousand people.
According to what I'd learned, the city was the beating heart of the Falorin Domain, a vast multi-racial empire ruled by an empress and governed by several noble houses. The local duchess, Malorie Grand, oversaw this region. She was respected, if somewhat feared, known for her firm hand against criminals and her refusal to marry despite endless proposals.
Merlyt wasn't just any city, it was a labyrinth city. Beneath its streets lay a sprawling underground maze that drew adventurers, merchants, and scholars from across the continent. A place where fortunes were made, or lives were lost.
And I intended to make a little fortune of my own there.