Chapter 65: Encounter on the Road

Above the street stretched a pale blue sky, with narrow and wide alleys interspersed on either side. Peering into the alleys, one could see the colorful clothes of various households hanging on ropes across the alleyways, basking in the midday sun. Occasionally, a gust of wind would lift a few fluttering hems, as if they were wet banners.

To take a shortcut to Carcia Avenue, they traversed through the alleyway entrance.

The alleyway was also bustling with people: a priest from an unknown church was praying, his face adorned with peculiar patterns, his voice heavy with nasal tones. A row of unruly children played leapfrog nearby. Several elderly people with wrinkled cheeks sat on benches, leisurely chatting. A pet dog followed a dignified-looking noblewoman, sniffing around and panting. A group of stray cats jostled in a corner, vying for dried fish offered by passing couples.

Salser observed the lively crowd for a moment, unsure of what to make of it all.

Seven years of fleeing and a month-long journey through a Warren of the Outer god.

A middle-aged shoeshiner, wearing a leather cap, squinted in the sunlight as he set up his disorganized stall. He knelt before a person sitting on a wooden chair, placed the person's leather shoes on a small stool, and swiftly and neatly brushed them with a brush.

A group of boys were playing and causing a ruckus. Some mimicked pig ears by placing their hands on the sides of their heads, others spun tops that they flicked towards the feet of passersby, and some were just running and jumping around. The most mischievous of them all was a slightly darker-skinned little boy who held a mousetrap and released a mouse, calling his friends to join him in a competition to see who could catch it first. They whistled and shouted—"HERE, HERE! HERE!"—laughing as they chased the gray, furry mouse. The mouse scurried and dashed everywhere, evading capture, until it finally darted under the baggy skirt of a plump aunty who was just returning home after buying groceries.

Startled, she jumped up as if she had been splashed with boiling water, screaming shrilly. Amidst the mischievous laughter of the boys, she lifted her clothes and frantically tried to shake off the mouse that had latched onto her skirt.

"Just you wait, Fikry! You little brat! I'm going straight to your house to tell your mother! You bastard!" she yelled frantically. 

The noblewoman's dog began to bark loudly. Curious onlookers poked their heads out of windows. Then, a dozen cats pounced over. Seeing the swarm of cats, the aunty became even more panicked and accidentally bumped into a young girl wearing a plain coat with her leg.

The mouse squeaked as it ran away, and the swarm of cats, like wild beasts released from their cages, chased after it. Laughter, screams, and whistles filled the air, creating a cacophony that echoed through the neither too wide nor too narrow alley.

The young girl, while saying "I'm sorry," struggled to get up from the cobblestone ground, dusted off the dirt from her legs, and straightened the small bag on her back.

"Excuse me, do you know where the Francis Academy is?" she asked, grabbing the little boy who had just released the mouse.

"Huh? Are you asking me?"

"Yes, yes, I'm talking to you. You're Fikry, right?" she nodded.

The boy named Fikry subconsciously gave her a quick once-over—beautiful brown hair, fair and smooth skin like that of a noble lady, a small round face, and wine-red, pretty pupils that stared unblinkingly at him—causing him to awkwardly shift his gaze away.

"Uh... that..."

"Fikry's blushing!" the other boys nearby began to loudly tease, "He's fallen in love at first sight with this girl! He's already thinking about how to talk to her and make her his girlfriend! SHAMELESS! SHAMELESS!"

"I'm not! You idiots!" The little boy turned around, his face flushed with anger, and chased after the group as they ran away.

"Ah..." The girl, looking disappointed, reached out her hand, but then quickly turned and went to ask the elderly people chatting on the bench.

"Youth is truly wonderful."

Salser raised his hand to block the sun, musing aloud, "If I were that little brat just now, I'd have no qualms about ditching those kids to escort that pretty little girl by myself."

Viola silently observed him, her green eyes revealing a subtle emotion.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Salser crouched down and playfully tugged at her cheek. "Don't stare at your teacher with that kind of gaze."

The texture was quite pleasant, so Salser gave it another playful squeeze.

Viola remained silent, continuing to quietly observe him.

"Excuse me... do you know where the Fransis Academy is?"

The young girl ran over, looking quite exhausted, her shoulders slumped like a newborn puppy. She was about the same age as Viola, but she didn't seem to be from this continent.

"I don't know."

Salser simply replied with those words.

"Ah..." She collapsed to her knees. "This city is just too big! Asking for directions is useless! You're a mage, I can tell! You must know where the Francis Academy is!"

"No, I am not." Salser said.

"He is." 

Jeanne casually hurled a light spear towards Salser's vital body part, which collided with a magical barrier and shattered.

"……"

Does this woman have to oppose me at every turn!?

"I get it now! You two must be a mage couple taking your daughter to the academy! Are you here to register for the Francis Academy? I sneaked away from my strict dad by joining a merchant caravan to Cast City because I dream of becoming a great mage! But then I found out he actually secretly packed a bunch of stuff in my bag... Anyway, it's way scarier than I thought. There are so many confusing streets, and nobody wants to help me find my way, and I can't understand their directions at all! If you're willing, I can give you my precious plums as a gift—but I can't live without them, so please just take a few—"

"Goodbye," Salser turned around and walked away.

"Please don't go, Master Mage! I don't want to go back and become a nun!"

"Unfortunately, we're not heading to that school at the moment," Jeanne said with an almost imperceptible sigh, then tossed a yellowed piece of parchment. "It's a map," she added.

"Huh?" The little girl was taken aback. "Is... is it okay to give this to me?"

"I know the way, but they are newcomers to this city," Jeanne said as she turned around, pausing for a moment. "There are still three days left for registration at that school. There's no need to rush. That's all, goodbye."

"Thank you so much! When I become the great mage that destiny has destined me to be, I will definitely repay you!"

The little girl waved her thanks to them from a distance.

......

Salser led Viola through the crowd, following Jeanne down the steep steps and into the small tavern on Carcia Avenue run by a barbarian from Barghast.

The place was a semi-underground building with an arched ceiling, packed with wine barrels, and the furnishings around clearly had a strong barbarian influence.

Jeanne walked towards the counter amidst the hushed whispers of the customers.

Standing facing her was a man with broad shoulders, his black hair tied into a ponytail adorned with various talismans and sacred items. Salser could clearly see—the man's bare arms were covered in spiral tattoos, and his muscular body was as solid as stone. He was indeed a very traditional Barghast barbarian, just as Salser remembered them.

"An Inquisitor is on official business," Jeanne's words caused several men who had intended to approach her to retreat, and then they began to argue with their companions at the table amidst a cacophony of jeers. She paused for a moment before continuing, "Caren Hortensia -Where is she now?"

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