I never dared hitch a ride on someone’s tamed beast, no matter how safe the tamer claimed them to be. After spending years fighting saurians for a living in Springsweald and its border regions trusting a terrorwing or a dreadwalker to carry me for hours or days on end wasn’t something I could bring myself to do.

  — Excerpt from Around the Empire in Two Years

  Day 298, 7:00 PM

  I was so used to fantasy setting thing, that I had forgotten that civilization had existed for dozens of uninterrupted millennia, developing all the while. The city entrance opened onto a wide boulevard flanked with buildings made of white marble with large glass windows. I glanced up and saw roofs tiled in gold.

  The sight was breathtaking until I realized I could probably get the same tiles for a first realm manarium crystal. Still, I moved along the half-empty street, taking in the wonders around me. The streets wide enough to fit ten wagons had not a hint of dung or other unpleasantries left behind by beasts of burden.

  Pedestrians kept to the wide sidewalks, leaving the middle empty for vehicles. Then a car went by, and I froze. It wasn’t a real car, but a self-propelled carriage, which only made it classier in my book. I stared at the marvel of magical technology, feeling as if passing through the city gate had teleported me to a different world.

  The surrounding people looked normal and wore normal clothes. An expectedly high percentage were awakened. Of roughly one hundred people that I could see, four had attained the second realm, and one the third. Made sense, in the early realms, the only obstacle for people here would be heart demons, which, if left unaddressed until the third realm started causing mental issues.

  I was a poster child of a country bumpkin, turning around and looking at everything there was to see, but I didn’t care about the looks I was getting. The deeper into the city I went, the denser the traffic grew, while the quality of buildings remained the same, the architecture uniform until it wasn’t.

  I reached an intersection with another wide boulevard, and the buildings beyond the street were made not of white marble, but pale blue with darker veins, which made them look as if they were made of water frozen in time.

  A second realm guard stood on a raised platform in the middle of a roundabout where the two streets converged. There were no crosswalks, but the pedestrians could cross to the other side of the street through an underpass.

  I stopped there, at the border between city blocks, and took out the booklet on city laws and went through the whole thing. The city was simply so much different than the rest of the world, I feared a random action might land me into trouble.

  Fortunately, the rules were more or less the same, with some notable exceptions. Pedestrians were forbidden from stepping onto the carriage-way. In the case of a pedestrian-related accident on the carriage-way, all fault lies with the pedestrian, and they must cover all the damages, including the cleanup, and the intervention of the city guards.

  Strict but fair, considering there were underpasses every two hundred yards or so. Rules about littering were draconic, and eating was only allowed in the parks. Carrying food out into the street meant the guards would snatch it away shortly, and slap you with a twenty thousand gold fine. I reread the number thrice.

  Good thing I didn’t offer that clerk a silver coin as a tip. He would’ve seen it as an offense.

  I took the clean, rune-lit underpass and crossed the street, slowly getting used to the sights. The one thing I found odd was the lack of trees on the main street, while the side streets had plentiful greenery, including trees and flowerbeds.

  The Fortunate Son was in another white block, a third of the way in. It looked no different from several other bars and inns I had passed along the way, businesses easy to distinguish by their plaques and massive glass windows covering nearly the entirety of the establishment’s street-facing wall.

  I climbed the two steps and opened the mana-infused wooden door, noting the runic reinforcements carved into the wood.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Based on the exterior, I expected an Earth-looking cafe or a hotel dining room or something similar, but apparently, the fancy exterior was a facade. Inside was a good old regular inn, with cold marble walls covered with warm wood. They even had a fireplace at the corner of the room with a merry fire going.

  The patrons crowded long wooden tables, tucking into their meals, which smelled really good. I scanned the room, and there were no free tables, but there were less crowded ones. I approached the nearest one.

  “Excuse me, is this seat taken?” I asked the balding, non-awakened man around fifty years old.

  He sized me up, then shuffled to the left, dragging his steaming plate with him.

  “Evenin’ your Lordship. What are you havin’?” A matronly woman, not much younger than the laborer who had made room for me, appeared behind me.

  The way well-practiced serving staff moved bordered on magic. And the woman looking at me expectantly was a high-level one, even if she didn’t know classes existed.

  “Am I that obvious?” I asked with a smile, and she returned one, showing perfect teeth.

  “It’s the conscious way Your Lordship moves, makin’ sure you don’t crush anyone by accident. So, what are you havin’?”

  “What do you recommend?”

  Surprisingly, her smile grew wider, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

  “I don’t dare recommend nothin’. For us commoners, all food here is great, but I daren’t guess what you would like.”

  Yeah, I can see the problem. Our bodies are so far removed, we might as well be two different species.

  “Do you have a special?”

  “Sure do, Your Lordship.”

  I was looking at her, and she at me.

  “And what is it?” I asked when it was clear she wouldn’t volunteer an answer.

  “Flatbill sirloin marinated in the house’s secret sauce and cooked for twenty hours with a side of mashed gooders seasoned with a secret blend of spices. You can tear the place down, but the cook won’t share the recipe. Even the owner doesn’t know what she puts in it.”

  I just stared at her. Well, I had never tried a flatbill before.

  “Sure, bring me a special and some drink that goes well with it.”

  The waitress nodded, then shook her head. “Pardon, Your Lordship, but I don’t know which drink goes well with the food.”

  I couldn’t take it anymore. “Are you intentionally messing with me? Poking jokes at the new guy in town?”

  “Certainly not, Your Lordship,” she said with a straight face, her fake smile gone. “Your satisfaction is my priority, especially since only newly arrived awakened visit our lowly establishment. There are stories about past incidents where commoner servers dared offer opinions, and, well, things didn’t turn out well for them when they failed to match their customer’s tastes.”

  The woman cleared her throat. “So, with all due respect, Your Lordship, I can’t make any recommendations or suggestions.”

  I sighed. “Fine, I’ll choose my drink once I have the food before me. And just so you know, I would never throw a fit because the food wasn't perfect."

  “I know.” She bowed. “A fine, refined gentleman such as Your Lordship would never dream of doin’ somethin’ like that.”

  With that, she left, not believing a word she said. Meanwhile, everyone else was completely focused on their food. So focused, in fact, that all the background noise had disappeared, letting everyone hear the entire conversation I shared with the waitress.

  I won’t be able to stay in a place like this. It was obvious that a first realm awakened might fit in with the crowd. At least with the silence, I could more easily spot the nervous proprietor, who knew I couldn’t stay from the moment he realized what I was.

  Did that clerk at the gate send me here to harm their business, or did he really send me here with the best intentions and without an ounce of thinking?

  Whatever the case, it was too late, so I got up and approached the owner.

  “Sorry for all this mess.” I decided not to tell him who sent me. “I’ll be out of your hair in the morning—”

  “I wouldn’t dare—”

  “It’s fine. I come from a much more relaxed place; you can speak your mind, but I guess you won’t. Anyway, I would like to spend the night here. If you could do me a favor and find me a guide, someone who can take me where people like me should stay. Show me to the guilds and such.”

  “Yes, Your Lordship. I can have someone here in an hour or two if you want.”

  “Thanks.” I smirked at the bowing man even if he couldn’t see my face. “Sure, but I want to try that sirloin first.”

  “Yes, Your Lordship. Certainly. Enjoy your meal.”

  I went back to my place, the whole place still unnaturally silent, as if the diners feared drawing my attention.

  The waitress returned shortly with a baked clay plate with the meat covered in brownish-black gravy on one side and bright-orange mashed gooders occupying the other half with a generous garnish of parsley leaves.

  I took a moment to enjoy the smell before I stabbed the meat with my fork, ready to cut it with the knife. Unsurprisingly, the sirloin parted before the fork alone, and I took a mouthful, the taste blooming in my mouth.

  This is so much better than Basil’s!