Four hours later, Ubbaru suddenly stopped in front of a two-story building. The noise, the wind and the scenery all came back in a rush. Armad was startled again. It would take time to get used to it.

A symbol in front of the building read Best's Inn. Inns were built closer to a town, which was an opportunity for him to know where he was. He heard people speaking inside and he decided to give it a shot. His first instinct was to return the horse to the spatial ring, but he didn't know how people would react to it. After a short debate, he decided against it and just tied the house to a nearby tree and walked to the wooden entrance. The walls were riddled with a blue algae from the roof to the ground.

Armad pushed the door open and stepped inside. The first thing he saw was a line of tables, each table with two or three chairs around it. Five seats were already occupied with customers. A saliva-inducing aroma came from the table near the counter where an old, bald man stood, waving at him.

"Welcome, young man, what do you want? Fermented milk or wine to warm you up? I'll have the menu ready in a second."

"Both, but double the milk." Armad said.

The old man nodded and pointed Armad to an empty seat. A few minutes later, the waitress brought the cups to him.

"How old are you?" Armad asked. The girl was too young that she immediately caught his attention.

"I am eleven. Old enough to be sharing drinks at an inn." She said, smiling innocently.

Armad widened his eyes in surprise, but he quickly regained his calm as he understood the situation.

"Here is the menu." She handed over the list. Armad wanted to see the type of food they offered, and probably, figure out his location from there.

Fried rice, Swallow, Overcooked Albasa...

Nothing specific. The list could be seen anywhere on the Northern hemispheres.

"What would you like, sir?" The girl said. Another thing that caught his attention was she had four missing teeth: five up and three down. She should be well past the period of shedding her primary teeth, but still..

As if realizing he was criticising her teeth, the girl quickly closed her mouth with a giggle.

"Er... sorry. Overcooked Albasa would do." He apologized, knowingly fully it wasn't nice to stare at a girl's missing teeth.

She nodded in a trained manner and left. As she turned around, Armad saw her burnt collar.

"You," he called and waited for her to turn around before he added, "have you ever been to Fidebla?"

The girl narrowed her eyes at the sudden question but she answered nonetheless. "No, sir."

"Oh, sorry. I saw your collar carrying the sigil of House Hán. I thought you came from there."

"This is Shunde, the capital is five states away. It's a bit far for the young girl, don't you think?" The old bartender behind the canter said.

"Yeah." Armad nodded.

Inhabitants of the Third World often wore a burnt collar to show their allegiance to fire-based House Hán. And Shunde was part in the Third World's northern hemisphere. How long would it take to reach his village? Armad didn't know.

*Bang.*

Someone (or something) hit the entrance door. Armad and the others turned around with wide eyes.

"Whose horse is this? ...Well, it doesn't really matter, I want it and I'll have it." A deep, gravelly voice came from the outside.

"The speaker is a bloody muggle with just forty years of longevity. All the others are weaklings." Iqra informed him.

And yet, they were all heavily built men dressed in furs. The speaker caressed the horse's head like a pet, while the others stood behind him with unsheathed weapons. One was already trying to free the horse.

The inn fell deathly quiet.

"I won't ask again. Whose bloody horse is this?" The bandit thundered. Armad opened his mouth to talk but the waitress girl shook her head.

"Please... don't. They'll kill you." She whispered, pointing at her missing teeth.

Armad smiled at the frightened girl. "What's your name?"

"Alba." She said. Then she lowered her voice further and whispered something in his ears.

"So that's how you lost your teeth?" Armad half asked half stated. Before the girl could answer, the bartender old man had snapped.

"Stop it, Alba. He can't save you forever. They will be around long after he was gone."

"Let her be." Armad said, imbuing his voice with life energy. The bartender felt the energy in the voice but he still went on. More terrified of the bandits than Armad.

"Please, you don't understand." He said. "Alba is an orphan, her parents have been sacrificed in the jinzidal. She has already seen enough brutality for a lifetime."

Armad took another look at Alba and sighed softly. There were hundreds of thousands of orphans like her who had lost everything because of the Jinzidal. The only way for these underage children to get three square meals was to work in places like this, where they were exposed to all kinds of maltreatment. Most of them lost it before adolescence and a larger percentage died.

"Great Wind." Armad chanted. A frigid wind swept across the inn, spreading frost in its wake. The ten or so bandits outside froze in place. Every longevity released an oppressive energy known as the Great Wind. This energy caused a sudden and unnatural fear in the target. The more the longevity the stronger the energy, and, if the difference between the two opposing longevities was more than one hundred years, you could oppress and defeat your opponent with fear alone.

"Kneel." Armad commanded. The bandits knelt. Then he pointed at their leader and asked Alba, "that's the one, right?"

Alba nodded.

"Break all your teeth." Armad commanded. The leader hesitated slightly but as soon as he locked eyes with Armad, he picked the nearest marble and crushed his teeth with it.

"Good. From today, this inn is under my protection. Touch it again and I'll show no mercy. You will protect it for the rest of your lives." Armad told the bandits. They nodded obediently.

He gave the girl and the bartender his ayrid communication code before he left.

In exchange for his kindness, Armad got a detailed map of the Third World that would take him to his village directly.

"Let's go home, Ubbaru."

[Yes, master.]

Ten months ago, Armad left his home to find the Triple-factor. When he left he'd fifty-one years, but now he'd one hundred and sixty. When he left, his only problem was to find a cure for his mom, but now he'd many problems - too many to even count. What did Babara really wanted? Would he agree to help Armad, even though, Armad didn't fulfill his end of the bargain?