The iron bell hanging on the carriage jingled and swayed. With its clear clinks, the caravan slowly made its way along the hillside road.

“That must be Scorchstone City over there, right?”

Sylutia looked out the window at the city built into the mountain. True to its name, many of the stone bricks showed blackened scorch marks, as if the place had once been ravaged by fire.

“That’s right. We’ll be arriving at Scorchstone City soon.” Vanderhey rode alongside the carriage Sylutia sat in as he spoke.

“When we get to Scorchstone, we’ll rest here for a while to restock goods, and we’ll sell the items we bought to the city’s merchant guild.”

“Doesn’t Mr. Vanderhey usually sell directly to the townsfolk?” Sylutia asked, surprised.

“That’s different from how things are in the village.” He shook his head.

“Market stall fees in the city aren’t cheap. Also, moving that much merchandise piece by piece would take forever and wouldn’t be worth it.”

“Finally, the merchant guilds in the city are powerful. A wandering trader like me can’t compete with them. To avoid conflict, selling our wares directly to them is the best option.”

“I see.”

They chatted as the caravan gradually reached the city gate and underwent the guards’ inspection.

The process didn’t take long. The guards only made a basic record of the number of vehicles and the general cargo, then let them pass. As for Sylutia’s carriage, they didn’t even bother glancing at it.

“Move out.” The driver shook the reins and urged the packhorses forward.

On the city’s cobblestone streets the carriage smoothed out. Sylutia peered through a gap in the window and watched the passing sights.

The city was lively. Many villagers and hawkers from the surrounding area walked the streets, selling everyday goods and local foods.

At that moment, Sylutia noticed several distinctive people. They wore short cloaks and carried weapons on their shoulders: a double-edged axe, a broadsword, a spear, and some with bows and arrows. Compared to ordinary passersby, they looked confident and showy, spending freely when buying things.

“Those are adventurers.” Talier saw where Sylutia was looking and explained.

“My grandfather used to be an adventurer. They take tasks posted by the local guilds and complete them for rewards.”

“How strong are they?” Sylutia blinked slightly. Her Discernment Eyes told her these people hadn’t reached Aspect Rank One yet, but they were much stronger than ordinary guards; one of them’s Breathing Technique was already at Second Stage.

“Adventurers’ strengths vary. The competent ones reach Rank One; truly exceptional ones are rare.” Talier replied.

“But my grandfather used to be a Second-Rank adventurer. He was very strong.” No wonder the old man had such a bad temper, and Frien dared not contradict him.

Being Second-Rank in his youth made him one of the region’s rare powerhouses, so it made sense he’d been on friendlier terms with the previous Baron Horlin.

They arrived at a large inn in the city. After Vanderhey spoke with the proprietor for a while, the carriage was driven into the courtyard and parked. Talier and Sylutia stepped down from the carriage.

The stable smelled of damp hay, animal droppings, and livestock—the animals’ scent was present but, since it was outdoors, not overwhelming. Sylutia covered her nose briefly with her sleeve, then, hood still up, she looked around with curious eyes.

As soon as they left the courtyard and entered the inn’s front hall, some caravan staff approached.

“Miss Tia, Lord Vanderhey invites you to join him for dinner.”

“Where is it?” From the tone, it sounded like they wouldn’t dine at the inn.

“At the Grelia Restaurant in town. I’ll walk you there.” The messenger bowed and gestured.

Sylutia and Talier followed him along the street. After about two minutes they arrived at a street-side restaurant.

Colorful glass decorated the arched windows; the entrance was a door of glass and curtains, looking particularly elegant.

They pushed the door open. Several attendants by the entrance stepped forward to guide them and led Sylutia to a private table on the second floor. Curtains separated the window-side tables into quiet compartments, while Talier and one of the caravan youths stayed to dine on the first floor.

In the private room, Vanderhey was already seated. He had taken off his felt hat and set it aside; his grizzly bulk leaned back against the chair in a rare display of relaxation.

“Miss Tia, you’re here.” He half rose to greet her, then sat back down.

After these past days, he and Sylutia had grown a little more familiar, no longer as stiffly deferential as at first.

“Please, sit. The food here is excellent. I promise you won’t be disappointed.” He gave his guarantee.

“I’ll be looking forward to it.” Sylutia smiled and bowed her head slightly in thanks.

Seeing the silver-haired girl smile, Vanderhey paused for a few seconds, then shook his head.

“Miss Tia’s beauty is truly irresistible,” he sighed.

He wasn’t certain whether she was actually noble, but that air and appearance might outshine some highborn heirs. That was why he was willing to invest in befriending her.

“Thank you for the compliment.” Sylutia had heard praise for her looks many times over these days; even when prepared, she still felt a little shy each time.

Being attractive was indeed a blessing, though it sometimes caused trouble. She’d begun wondering whether she should wear a light veil when going out.

They talked casually about their recent experiences. Vanderhey said he’d be staying in the city for a while; he knew Sylutia had just arrived and would likely need help with many things.

“What are your plans for the future, Miss Tia?”

“Me? I’ll probably find a place to live in the city first, then get a job, learn some knowledge, and after that plan further.” Who really knew what the future held?

Vanderhey didn’t immediately give advice; he stroked his big beard and thought for a moment.

“I’m a merchant. I don’t have political power in the city, but I can arrange a place for you to live. It’s a place I used before. I rarely stay in Scorchstone, so it’s been vacant.”

“That would be very kind of you. I’ll remember your favor.” Even though she knew his offer was partly an investment, Sylutia felt grateful. Given her current situation, finding a home in the city by herself would be very difficult.

“Hahaha, it’s nothing.” Hearing Sylutia’s gratitude relieved him somewhat. At least he could hope for some return on his investment.

If she had been indifferent or picky, he probably wouldn’t risk helping so much to avoid loss.

Not long after, the restaurant attendants brought the dinner to the table. When they lifted the lid, a fragrant steam billowed out.

On a silver platter lay a roasted goose, its skin golden and crisp. Around it were arranged red berries and roasted celery as garnish.

“Sir, shall I carve it now?” the attendant asked, bowing.

“Let’s admire it a little longer. Every time I see Martin’s cooking, it feels like art.” Vanderhey praised the restaurant’s head chef.

The attendant understood and carefully turned the platter so the golden roast goose could be admired from every angle.

Even for Sylutia, who retained memories from her past life, this was a rare feast. Her eyes shone with curiosity as her mind floated over information about the dish.

[Roast White Goose] (Quality: Excellent): After removing the entrails, fill the goose with bread, orange segments, and spices. Spread butter over the skin and roast, then finish with pepper and a small amount of sauce. Excellent flavor and texture.

After the viewing, the attendant took out a carving knife, slit the goose’s belly, removed the bread, sliced it into pieces, paired them with small cuts of goose meat, and placed them on the two diners’ plates.

“Please enjoy.” The attendant bowed respectfully and left after serving.

Sylutia took a small piece with her fork and put it into her mouth. Warmth and buttery sweetness rose with the first bite. The pepper and meat flavors hit first, followed by the soft crumbs of bread. Juices mingled and spread across her palate, immediately waking her taste buds.

Phew…

After finishing the bite, she exhaled softly to cool her burning tongue.

Seeing the girl’s adorable expression, Vanderhey had to look away; otherwise he felt he might melt under that strangely enchanting charm.

“Even a kingdom’s princess couldn’t be cuter,” he thought. If the girl entered the high nobility, she would attract many suitors. If he were ten years younger, he might have joined them—though his youthful ambitions had long faded.

…

While enjoying the meal, Vanderhey asked about Sylutia’s age.

“Around fifteen or sixteen,” she replied.

She judged based on Talier’s age; Talier was just over sixteen and they were similar in height.

“Sixteen?” Vanderhey looked Sylutia over. Her facial curves were still soft and not fully matured—she did seem that age.

“At sixteen, finding work won’t be easy,” he mused.

“There will always be a way.” In her previous life she had left university and worked for several years, so she wasn’t too worried.

At worst she’d live modestly and save. In a world with supernatural Aspects, what mattered most was improving her strength.

“Do you know where one might learn about advancing supernatural Aspects, Mr. Vanderhey?”

“That I happen to know a bit about. Or rather, anyone with ambition will ask around.” He smiled, lifted his wine cup, and swirled it gently.

“For ordinary commoners, the most common path is to join the army or become part of a noble’s guard. They teach Aspect knowledge related to the Castle Aspect, along with various combat techniques. If you’re extremely talented and reach Second Rank before forty, even with humble origins you’ll gain much respect.”

“But for the real elite—the rulers and highborn—reaching Third Rank is where things truly begin.”

“At Third Rank for the Castle Aspect, you can pledge fealty to a monarch or a powerful noble, become one of their knights, and receive a fief—at minimum a village, and with good performance possibly an entire town.”

“A monarch often commands a powerful knight order. Each knight there is Third Rank or above; a single knight can raze villages or subdue powerful mountain beasts. They’re stars of the battlefield and a formidable force.”

“Each knight is usually accompanied by three to four Castle Second-Rank squires. With thousands of such men, an iron army can sweep the battlefield, break any line, and be invincible.”

“Our country of Regas’s founding monarch was called the ‘Knight King.’ Centuries ago he led the Frostpine Knights into twenty-seven consecutive victories; their swallow-tailed banners cracked like ice, thousands of lances tore through the cold mist like thunder, crushing countless enemies and local tribes, and finally established the capital at Whitecliff City, carving out their domain in these mountains.”

“But that was long ago. Regas’s power today is much diminished; it has been reduced from a kingdom to a duchy.” He shook his head slightly.

“Apart from that common route, another option is to join various guilds and organizations. Small ones include the ‘Gourmet Guild,’ ‘Horticulturist Guild,’ and ‘Mason Guild’; they hold knowledge and secrets for Rank One to Two. Larger guilds like the ‘Apothecary Guild,’ ‘Forging Guild,’ or ‘Thieves’ Guild’ possess Rank One to Three knowledge and secrets.”

“Is that all? I heard Talier mention the Candlefort School.” Sylutia asked, puzzled.

“Oh, right. Your sister Winnie once studied under Scholar Hyde.” Vanderhey twitched his beard as he answered.

“The Candlefort School is different from the guilds I mentioned. They are a powerful organization operating beyond the nation’s direct control. Even many kingdoms rely on them to handle problems.”

“I don’t know much about Candlefort School myself—after all, I’m just a small merchant. The only thing I do know is that many noble advisers and consultants in Regas come from that school. Scholars certified with the Candlefort emblem are highly respected in this land; even nobles treat them with courtesy.”

“Thank you for telling me.”

Their meal wound down.

After finishing the rare feast, Sylutia and Vanderhey descended the stairs and reunited with Talier and the caravan youth waiting outside. They boarded the carriage and returned to the inn.

That night passed quietly.

The next day Vanderhey had people clean the long-unused house and furnished it with a new bed, then handed the place over to Sylutia.

With the key in hand, Sylutia and Talier toured the house inside and out, inspecting everything.

“This is the East District. It’s not as wealthy or luxurious as the West District, but it’s still a very good neighborhood.” Talier introduced the area to Sylutia.

“The North District is where Viscount Xuefeng’s castle stands; ordinary people generally can’t enter there. The West District houses the wealthy and some nobles. The East District is mostly free citizens and various professionals. The South District, also called the Lower District, is where many poor people live.”

The house was small. The ground floor accommodated daily life: five rooms including a living room, a kitchen, a washroom, and two bedrooms. Above was an attic for storage—space was limited.

Behind the house was a five-meter-wide yard with some flowers and plants, most now wilted and overrun with weeds.

It was modest, but Sylutia was very pleased—much better than the cramped apartments she’d had while working in the big city before.

The next day Vanderhey’s workers cleaned the house thoroughly, and Sylutia settled in. Talier would stay here temporarily, so they kept each other company.

At night, after washing up, the two of them sat in the backyard in their sleepwear. A cool evening breeze dried the remaining moisture from their skin, bringing a pleasant comfort.

Sylutia lounged in a tall wooden chair. Her white nightgown revealed a gently swinging ankle. She tilted her head back to gaze up at the night sky—tonight she finally saw the moon.

The pale moon showed faint dark streaks across its surface, like flaws in a piece of jade. Those imperfections made the moon feel more real and crystal-clear, no longer elusive.

Bathed in moonlight, the girl felt a faint lightness, as if after relaxing completely she could float up to the moon itself.

But when she opened her eyes, she realized it had only been an illusion.

“Tia, just now it looked like you were wrapped in a faint veil—the color was like moonlight,” Talier said, curiosity shining in her eyes.

“No, maybe I imagined it. It’s not visible now.”

“Hmm.” Sylutia turned her gaze back to the ground and looked at Talier at her side.

Perhaps she really did have some unusual connection to the moon.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep