Knock Knock Knock
The accommodation is pretty bad here. How can they just disturb a customer? I haven't even slept that much.
Zane complained subconsciously as he opened his eyes, then glanced at the watch on his wrist. It was 5 AM.
"Dad."
Zane muttered as he looked at the watch that reminded him of his father.
Knock knock knock.
People here lack manners. How dare they wake up a guest at night? I don't even know if it's night here, but the point is it hasn't even been a full day. Hope they brought breakfast.
Zane yawned as he moved toward the door and opened it.
The receptionist from earlier stood there with the transaction glassy ball in her hands.
"Sorry for disturbing you, esteemed guest," she said with an elegant demeanor. "Your reservation time is up. If you want to reserve an extra day, you can pay upfront right now."
What the hell is she saying? How is my time up? I was only asleep for a few hours—how can a day be over?
Zane thought as he looked at his watch again.
No way a day is over. Is she pulling my leg?
Zane studied the impeccable receptionist. She didn't appear to be joking—she was looking at him with deadpan seriousness.
She's either a great actress, or... or a day truly is over. Wait... does time here work differently? Yes, this is definitely the only plausible explanation.
A grin spread across Zane's face. Only six hours had passed since he first reserved the room, yet the receptionist said it had already been a day. Didn't that mean a day here was only worth a quarter of a day on Earth?
This meant that Zane had only been here for half a month, not two months as he initially thought.
Zane didn't want to sleep anymore—he knew he couldn't fall asleep again no matter how hard he tried.
"I'm heading out right now. I no longer need the room," Zane said as he moved to the drawer by the bed and took out the memory token. "But I'll pay for the next nine days."
He moved toward the receptionist and transferred all the memory wisps from the token.
He then walked past the receptionist, leaving her standing at the door.
"By the way," he said as he walked away, "the key is at the door—you can lock it. I'll pick up the key from you when I return."
Zane continued as he descended the stairs. The receptionist watched in shock as he disappeared down the stairwell.
That's one weird gentlet. But why does he look like how they describe ancestors? I thought he had a memory to change his physical appearance, but now that I think about it, his behavior and mannerisms are way too awkward for a gentlet. Wait.
Realization dawned upon the receptionist as she took a deep breath.
Have I just interacted with an ancestor? No way. I thought ancestors never left the dream bubble. What might one be doing in the inn?
---
Meanwhile, Zane was moving down the bustling market street. He wanted to buy those glassy balls and see if he could figure out the physics behind them. He needed to understand these spheres before thinking of trading. These balls were too wondrous for Zane to grasp immediately, though he knew that given enough time, he would understand how they operated.
Zane believed that everything in existence always had a logical explanation behind it. These balls were no exception, no matter how wondrous they seemed. The question was where to start.
Zane didn't know what the market stalls beside the street were selling. On every shelf he looked at, Zane could only see the balls. There were things written in the Gentish language over each stall, but since Zane didn't yet know how to read Gentish, he was clueless.
Cozysprouts had told him that he needed a license and a market stall before he could start selling things. He had also mentioned that Zane needed to go to the merchants' guild for the license and stall booking.
Zane could only book a stall for now—he couldn't yet find a good opportunity to use his Craftsman skill. After all, he was in a city unlike any he'd ever seen or imagined. Zane still didn't know how this city operated.
Zane went to the street where he'd seen a carriage before. Cozysprouts had also told him that he could use carriages to travel at a cheaper cost within the city, and that he could find them anywhere. Two carriages sat stationary on the street.
The carriages weren't being pulled by horses but rather by creatures that looked like horses yet weren't horses. They were as black as shadows and armored like war horses. The armor looked more like their skin than actual armor. Their eyes emitted a purple glow. Each carriage had two of the shadow horses harnessed to it.
Zane approached the one at the front. A gentlet wearing nearly transparent clothing sat in the coachman's seat. He wore a brown dusty coat that seemed to have lost its color—Zane could only make out the faint brown hue. The clothing appeared to be turning more transparent with every passing second. Through the transparent coat, Zane could see only a single green wisp. His body wasn't vibrant like the hunters'. He also wore black pants and black boots that were also becoming transparent. This man appeared to be a poor gentlet.
"How much to the merchant's guild hall?" Zane asked in Gentish.
The man, who had been lost in thought while staring at the blue sunless sky, immediately looked down when he heard Zane, only to see a gentlet with a light beige-colored head.
The coachman didn't respond but rather stared at Zane curiously.
"How much does it cost to travel to the merchant's guild hall?" Zane asked again. The coachman didn't seem to have heard him before.
The coachman was simply disoriented. He had never seen such a gentlet, and now this same gentlet was asking him the cost of traveling to the merchants' guild hall. From the appearance of the gentlet, he had to be very wealthy—why would he need to use a carriage when there were cars?
Zane was now frustrated, seeing that he got no response. Didn't this gentlet hear him? Was he deaf?
"Are you going to take me to the Merchant's guild hall or not?" Zane asked calmly.
Why is he behaving as if he's seen a ghost?
Zane thought as he watched the man struggle to speak.
"So... sorry, esteemed sir. I apologize for my ignorance. It costs only a quarter gradeless memory to travel to the guild hall."
Zane's heart calmed upon getting a response.
"Can you take me there?"
"Yes, I definitely can," the rusty coachman responded. "You can sit in the back—I'll take you now."
Zane was actually surprised by the carriage's interior. It wasn't as old as the outside suggested. It looked like something royalty used back in the day on Earth—elegant and posh. The walls were cushioned and comfortable. There was one small window at Zane's head level where he could view the outside world.
As the carriage took off, Zane couldn't feel it moving—it was a smooth ride. He couldn't hear hooves hitting the cobblestone street as the horses moved. The steps of the shadow horses were as silent as death itself.
After twenty minutes, the carriage stopped.
『You have successfully exchanged 10 Supreme Coins for 10 memory wisps.』
Zane watched as the panel popped up before his view. He then pulled out the memory token from his pants pocket—it contained its multicolored glow again.
Zane got out of the carriage. The view was splendid and spectacular, nothing like the inn and market side of the city.
The carriage had stopped beside a towering stone edifice that commanded respect through sheer architectural magnificence. Gothic arches reached toward the heavens, their intricate stonework telling tales of master craftsmen from bygone eras. Gargoyles perched at every corner, their stone eyes watching over the bustling municipal district below. The surrounding buildings matched this grandeur—elegant Victorian mansions and commercial halls lined the cobblestone streets, their wrought-iron balconies and ornate windows speaking of old-world craftsmanship. Yet this wasn't a city trapped in the past. Sleek hovercrafts glided silently through the sky above the Gothic spires, while modern cars hummed along the ancient streets, creating a fascinating blend of eras that left Zane momentarily speechless.
Zane held the memory token above the coachman's palm, then willed a yellow wisp that felt like joy to enter the gentlet's palm. Zane watched as the yellow wisp became silky, yellowish gossamer as it entered the palm, then moved to the coachman's chest region and flowed into his body alongside the green wisp.
"Which of these buildings is the Merchant's guild hall?" Zane asked the coachman, who was beaming from the generous tip. The man pointed at the imposing stone structure directly in front of them—the very building that had captured Zane's attention.
So that magnificent building is the Merchant's Guild Hall, Zane thought, impressed by its grandeur.
Zane didn't speak anymore but walked toward the guild and entered. The interior was impeccable and immaculate, with soaring ceilings supported by marble columns that seemed to stretch endlessly upward. Crystal chandeliers cast warm light across polished floors, while rich tapestries depicting scenes of commerce and trade adorned the walls. The air itself seemed to hum with the energy of countless transactions and negotiations that had taken place within these hallowed halls.
Meanwhile at the center of Eryndor, a consciousness that had been asleep for too long stirred awake. The emergence of an intruder in its dream disturbed its slumber.