The streets grew more crowded the deeper they ventured into the heart of Rotana.
The sound of hammers was no longer isolated—it had become a steady rhythm beating beneath the city's skin, blending with vendors' calls, the creaking of wooden wheels, and the firm echo of boots against polished stone.
Aren walked beside Ray, narrowly avoiding a cart stacked with copper-bright metal ingots gleaming beneath the sun.
Then he asked, his voice calm but openly curious,
"Ray… where are we going now?"
She didn't answer immediately.
She paused to let a group of craftsmen pass before resuming her steady pace.
"We'll look for a place to stay. For now."
He glanced at her.
"Just… like that?"
A faint smile curved her lips, though she didn't look at him.
"What did you expect? That we'd enter the city and start changing the world on the first day?"
He lowered his head slightly, letting out a soft laugh.
"No… but I thought you had a clearer plan."
She stopped at a street corner where alleys branched between forges and textile shops. Tilting her chin upward, she gestured toward a wooden sign swaying above the entrance of a two-story stone building.
"I do have a plan," she said. "But it begins with something simple: stability."
He fell into step beside her again.
"And after we're settled?"
Ray exhaled slowly, weighing her words.
"Then we move with the current of this city. And we see where the current of this world carries us."
Aren lingered on her phrase—the current of the world.
He looked around.
A dwarf bargaining with a human trader over the price of a leather cuirass.
An elven woman standing silently near a gemstone shop, her cold eyes observing everything.
Two children—one human, one dwarf—laughing as they chased a wooden ball.
"It feels like everyone knows where they're going," Aren murmured. "Except me."
This time she turned toward him, slowing until they walked in the same rhythm.
"That's natural."
"Natural?"
"Yes. You left the Silent Forest only hours ago. This world has been moving long before you ever took your first step into it."
He was quiet for a moment.
"So… we just blend in?"
"At first, yes."
A warm breeze passed between them, carrying the scent of fresh bread. Sunlight caught in Ray's red hair, making it flare like a brief flame.
"We'll find a modest inn. We'll listen. Observe. Understand how things move here. Who holds influence. Who trades. Who struggles in the shadows."
He studied her carefully.
"And you? Are you planning something bigger?"
A faint smile touched her lips, but her eyes remained serious.
"Always."
He lengthened his stride slightly to match hers.
"So it's not just temporary lodging."
"No."
She paused, then added,
"Rotana isn't an ordinary city. It's a crossroads. Those who seek trade pass through here. Those who seek news find it here. And those who wish to disappear… can do that too."
Aren felt a subtle chill.
"Disappear?"
"In large cities, you can become anything—if you know how to move."
He observed the faces around him.
Every face carried a story.
Every step moved toward a purpose.
So this is the real beginning, he thought.
"Will we stay here long?" he asked.
She shrugged.
"That depends on you."
"On me?"
She stopped abruptly at a crowded intersection and turned fully toward him.
"You said you wanted to change yourself, didn't you?"
He remembered his own words outside the walls—when he had looked back at the dark clouds behind him.
He nodded.
"Then the beginning isn't somewhere far away. It's here. In how you choose to face this world."
A cart nearly brushed past them, forcing them closer together.
"And what if this 'current' sweeps us away instead of us walking within it?"
Her smile shifted—sharper now, almost challenging.
"Then we learn how to swim."
Silence lingered for a breath.
"Ray… are you afraid?"
The question caught her off guard.
She didn't answer at once. Her gaze moved over the stone towers rising above them, the smoke drifting from chimneys.
"Yes."
He blinked.
"Really?"
"Not of the city," she said softly. "But of what we might discover here."
"About what?"
She met his eyes.
"About you."
The noise of the city continued around them, but something between them grew still.
He broke the weight with a lighter tone.
"Then we should at least find a decent inn… so I can worry you comfortably."
She laughed.
"Even if we sleep in a small room above a forge, it's better than the forest's darkness."
He glanced back briefly—remembering.
Then he looked ahead again, where sunlight shimmered across stone windows.
"Yes… much better."
They continued walking.
Their footsteps gradually matched the rhythm of the city.
Not like lost strangers—
But like two people who had just begun a new chapter,
Without yet knowing its title.
They hadn't gone far from the main road before the sound changed.
No longer the rhythm of hammers—
But metal striking metal.
Ray halted instinctively, extending an arm slightly in front of Aren in silent caution.
In a sunken side plaza, a wide circle of onlookers had gathered.
This was no random brawl.
It was a structured duel.
Aren stepped forward, peering over a spectator's shoulder.
A broad-shouldered dwarf, skin darkened by forge heat, gripped a heavy short sword that looked barely refined from raw iron.
Opposite him stood a slightly taller human youth—lighter frame, wielding a slender spear with a gleaming silver tip.
No one shouted.
No one interfered.
They simply watched.
Sword met spear.
A red spark burst outward—but not from friction alone.
Magic flared along the blades.
"They're using magic… while fighting," Aren breathed.
Elsewhere in the ring, two combatants—one human, one dwarf—clashed with daggers wreathed in blue flame that intensified at the moment of impact before vanishing.
At the edge of the circle, a short woman wielded a metal staff etched with geometric runes; each time she struck the ground, a translucent shield flickered into existence before her opponent.
Aren's heart quickened.
"They're strong…"
Not admiration alone—understanding.
"This is Rotana," Ray said calmly. "Here, magic isn't decoration. It's a tool."
He watched the human fighter pivot, thrusting sideways. The dwarf barely retreated—absorbing the strike with a body that felt more stone than flesh.
"So humans are weaker?" Aren asked.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Dwarven bodies are built to endure fire and iron. Higher muscle density. Stronger bones. Even their internal mana pathways are naturally stable."
"And humans?"
"More fragile physically… but more volatile."
"Volatile?"
"They adapt quickly. A dwarf may be born strong—but a weak human can become terrifying if he learns how to grow."
The human slipped beneath his opponent's arm, driving the butt of his spear into the dwarf's abdomen. A concentrated burst of white mana exploded outward.
The dwarf stepped back this time.
"Still… he's barely holding on," Aren murmured.
"In a duel between equals, a human rarely defeats a dwarf," Ray said. "But surpass the level… and things change."
Silence lingered.
"Even in another world… I start weak again," Aren said quietly.
No sorrow in his voice. Just truth.
Escape one life… begin from zero again.
He looked at his empty hands.
No armor.
No weapon.
No real experience at this level.
Will I ever stand inside a circle like that?
Ray glanced at him.
She alone knew—
He was not truly zero.
If only you knew what you carry…
But she said only,
"Power isn't just muscle or mana density."
"Then what?"
"Control."
The duel ended as the human's spear fell, the dwarf's blade resting at his throat without drawing blood.
No death.
Just result.
"Nothing in this world is absolute," Ray said.
He hesitated.
"Do you think… I can become strong here?"
She smiled faintly.
"The question isn't whether you can. The question is what you'll do when you realize how much you possess."
He froze.
"What do you mean?"
She looked away toward the arena.
"This world doesn't forgive weakness. So choose."
Her voice was steady.
"Learn… or be crushed."
Aren watched the dwarf extend a hand to help the human stand.
"I think… I want to learn."
Even if I begin weak… I won't remain that way.
"Good," Ray said.
"We'll find lodging. Then we'll start understanding how strength is forged here. Slowly."
They walked away as metal still rang behind them.
Rotana was not merely a city to live in.
It was a city where wills were smelted—
Just like metal.
And Aren…
Was about to enter his first furnace.