“…What about the city?” He asked.

“What about it?”

“The Hunting Party is traveling this way, right? Won’t that leave the citizens in its path…?”

He mostly asked this out of concern for Reno, knowing well that by the sounds of it, this Massacre-level entity was probably something beyond the likes of Oswell, by a long shot.

Vandread scratched his head, “The Hunting Party won’t go through a city–not one like Elsia, at least. It’s not a mindless entity–they’re smart and slippery. They seem to aim for caravans and mostly small groups that’re traveling the roads, not entire cities like that.”

“I see…What happens if it reaches us, then?” He asked.

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As he ventured around the city for a bit longer, stretching his legs and taking in the crowded atmosphere one last time before he’d be back in that carriage for quite some time, he found himself looking in surprise at the sight before him.

He had returned near the inn, where the “carriage parking service” inhabited.

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As the man returned to his feet, neither he nor Reno could do anything but stand still, knowing well that the unknown visitor to the tower knew they were there.

Slowly, the figure turned to face them, though he was surprised to find the one dressed in the white-and-black uniform was a young man, likely in his early twenties, at most.

What stood out were his eyes–the irises the man possessed weren’t just one shade, but many–it was as if staring into a rainbow kaleidoscope.

“Oh? A pair of children have wandered in?” The man said.

“–” Reno gulped.

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He still wasn’t a fan of breaking-and-entering, but it at least seemed devoid of ask as the garden looked empty, and Reno definitely knew her way around.

Once again presenting the movement abilities not unlike a monkey, Reno hopped down, grabbing onto the branches of one of the old, tall-standing trees before hopping to the garden floor.

“C’mon!” Reno called out to him from below with a smile.

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“Ya never told me why you’re here. Yer younger than me, arentcha? What’re ya doin alone in Elsia as a traveler?” Reno asked.

He shook his head softly, “I’m not alone exactly. But, well, we’re just stopping here for a bit–today is my last day here, actually.”

“Last day?” Reno looked at him with a slight dulling to her expression.

“Mhm,” he nodded, “I didn’t actually get much of a chance to see Elsia yesterday, so…”

“My bad,” Reno sulked.

He laughed a bit, “It’s not your fault. I made my own choices. But, today, I’d like to see it properly.”

Reno’s smile returned in full-force as she placed her hand on her chest, “Leave it to me! I hope ya got the right wallet, because yer gonna need some souvenirs to take with ya!”

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“Welcome!”

He was immediately greeted by a waitress, who gave him a big smile and bowed in front of him, as if trying to match his height.

“A new customer? Just yourself?” The waitress asked with a smile.

He nodded slowly with flushed cheeks, “Y-yeah.”

There was something catching his eye–no, two things that were catching his gaze. Though they were tucked into the white-and-green waitress uniform that was matched with a medium-length skirt that stopped just above the knees, those two mounds bounced with the slightest movement from the woman.

Boobs, he thought.

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It was such an odd, perplexing encounter without little clue of its purpose that he chose to bury it in his mind for now, going on his way again.

Eventually, he managed to wander his way back to the inn, entering through the flower-decorated door as he found a wizened, old man standing at the reception desk.

“How can I help you, lad?” The silver-haired man asked, setting his book down.

He scratched his cheek, “Err, my companion checked in here. A tall guy, darkly dressed, got a lot of scars–ring a bell?”

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“Ah! Many thanks, my dear friend!” Lawrence laughed in joy.

“Mhm,” he nodded, “You were amazing back there, Lawrence. Are you sure you’re a Noble-rank? You seemed even better than Oswell at one point…”

Lawrence laughed again at this remark, “That’s the nature of being one of chaos, my dear friend. You can’t quite be certain of any match against such lavish unpredictability, can you?”

“–” He didn’t know how to respond.

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He predicted that this time, Oswell would rush towards him, which he was ready for as he waved his staff around, summoning rings of fire around him that howled in a beautiful blaze.

“–!” Oswell looked forward in surprise.

It was launched just as the man got close: a fire-born spell that shaped itself like a mighty lance–being thrust forward as if wielded by an unseen knight before crashing against Oswell’s blade.

“Ghhh…!” Oswell struggled.

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“I’ll take his focus,” Lawrence said, glancing back, “However, I will need your support, my dear friends. This man is quite the troublesome opponent.”

“You’ve got it,” he nodded.

“I want a piece of this creep myself!” Reno added.

As the three readied themself for the fight, Oswell had already initiated the fight–dashing forward as he closed the distance between himself and the clown-like adventurer within a single moment.

“You’re talking as if you can contend with me, jester,” Oswell said with a look of utter bloodlust embedded in his eyes, “Please, show me where that unwarranted confidence comes from.”

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