Finding out that homes cost far less was both a distressing and soothing thought. On one hand, it wouldn’t give you a veritable fortune if you sold it but buying another wouldn’t be too difficult if you compared that to the pay. In the garrison, you could make three silvers a day and a house cost a golden coin, which was a hundred silver coins.

While it would be difficult with the pay of a garrison soldier that had to provide for their family, it was the smallest pay you could expect from a military job —that was the only choice in Ascot barring a teaching career in the Academy.

Rowan stood next to Liz. He had a large backpack that contained all four books and the scroll Liz told him to keep, not to mention all his clothes but that added up to 3 pairs so it didn’t take up space.

Unlike him, Liz had packed light and had nothing but the clothes she wore and her sword at her side. The tunic she wore was thicker and no doubt warmer but it looked deceptively similar to the other one.

They stood before the gate out of the city walls. It was as tall as a five-story building, which wouldn’t be impressive if it wasn’t a wall that size. His best guess was that it was built from stone but he couldn’t be sure. To add to the aesthetic, two men with pole-arms and chain mail draped over their torso stood before the gate.

“You have your permits, don’t you?” asked Liz as they got closer to the end of the line. There weren’t many of them in the line but the ones that were didn’t take much time.

“Permit?” asked Rowan, eyes narrowed and head tilted.

“Yes, permit. The messenger should’ve given it to you,” said Liz, her brows furrowed and her mouth halfway through to forming a grimace.

“He told me to-” started Rowan and he scoffed. He finally understood what the messenger meant, “Yeah, yeah. I have it. It’s in the bag.”

“Then get it out,” hissed Liz.

“I will. I will, okay? Just calm down,” said Rowan and his mind started a marathon to explain how he was getting past them without a permit. It seemed even more a daunting task than standing up for himself.

“If you miss this ride, there won’t be another one for a whole month,” whispered Liz and glanced behind her shoulders. She leaned in closer and added, “Don’t embarrass me, for the Auspices’ sake.”

“Okay,” said Rowan and raised his hands. He frowned and gulped. Telling the truth seemed the easiest way out of the situation but half a truth would suffice, “They said they’d leave it at the gate.”

“They did what?” growled Liz, her eyes wide. Her left eye twitched. She glanced at the guards and rubbed her temples, “Do they know how greedy those disgusting, sweaty pigs are? They’ll try to haggle you out of all your money.”

“Well, I have my awesome sister to protect me,” said Rowan and gave her a dumb grin, showing his teeth, “And I’m a Cultivator now, so there’s that.”

“Not yet, you aren’t. You just broke through. You haven’t learned how to use it yet,” said Liz and grumpily turned away.

Truth was, he was told to whisper his name and he’d be let through. No permits or customs included. With each step he took, he started to doubt its validity but he never lost hope.

“Permits,” said the guard to the right, on Liz’s side. She dutifully handed a golden card to the guard, who then inspected it for a few seconds before handing it back. He nodded and Liz passed through without a hassle.

Rowan leaned into one of the guards’ ears and whispered, “I’m Rowan Gallagher. Principal Lloyd sent me.”

The guard glanced at the other one and both of them nodded.

“You’ll have to follow me,” said the guard on the left and sharply turned right, to the city walls.

“Hey!” shouted Liz from behind, “Where are you taking him?”

“I assure you, miss, no harm will come to your brother,” said the other guard and placed his halberd before Liz to cover her path.

“Who the hell are you? I’ve worked here for years. I don’t recognize you,” she growled after staring at his face.

“Stand down, Miss Gallagher. Fighting against authority while serving in the military is frowned upon,” said the guard in response to her protests. Rowan turned around and gave her a thumbs-up, or rather, tried to but she didn’t get the message.

“What’s this about?” asked Rowan after they were out of sight.

“It’s confidential,” said the guard, and that was all he got.

“Where to?” asked Rowan, trying his luck, but got the same cold answer.

They walked for several minutes before they reached stairs that led to the top of the walls. It sharply turned after going up a floor’s worth of height, conserving space. There was plenty of support beneath the stairs, seemingly ready for an entire army to descend the stairs at once.

On the first step of the stairway sat a man that wore a dark green cloak that reached the ground and a breastplate with its chest covered by dark green cloth. He had a messy stubble, sunken eyes, and curly, brown hair. There was no weapon on his person, surprisingly.

“You’re excused,” said the man with a gruff voice, and the soldier promptly turned around. After giving the order, he looked Rowan up and down, “I’m Isaac. Lloyd sent me to deliver you to the Capital, safely. We’ll travel off the road to avoid detection.”

“Detection?” asked Rowan.

“You’re a prize. Everyone wants a piece of you, and that piece is either your head or your loyalty,” he said and climbed up to his feet. He pointed a finger at the sky and spoke, “They can fly. Any ride they see on the road, they’ll stop and examine. So we’ll have to trek through the forest.”

“Wait. It’d take a month if we went with a wagon. Going off the road means it’d take more than two months,” said Rowan, and his hopes of reading on the road sunk. Even if it was a shaky ride, he’d hoped he could at least get the basics of Cultivation down.

“A month and a half if you’re competent,” said Isaac and slowly exhaled through his nose, “You should be competent. You graduated the Academy.”

“About my sister,” said Rowan unconfidently. If he didn’t tell her about the situation, she’d make a fuss out of it.

“Yes?” asked Isaac, his tone monotonous. It wasn’t the blatant disregard that Simon had. Rather, it was clearly caused by exhaustion, each syllable drawn out to twice its length.

“I need to talk to her first. She’s also going to the Capital and was under the impression we’d be traveling together,” said Rowan.

“That’s not allowed. No one should know that you’re traveling at all. As far as they’re aware, it should look like you used a Portal Array,” said Isaac.

“She’s already aware,” countered Rowan.

“She isn’t. She thinks you’re rotting in the dungeons. It’ll all be clarified after you’re at the Capital,” said Isaac.

“Understood,” mumbled Rowan and bit his lips. He’d get his head chewed off at the Capital but at least she was getting the promotion she deserved and wanted.

“Now, we wait for the others,” said Isaac and stared off at the distance, leaning on the wall with no regard for the dust that’d stick to his cloak.

That’s when Rowan heard a rowdy crowd coming their way. The buildings closest to the walls were at least a hundred meters away and no one that wasn’t leaving the city or visiting the walls had any business coming close.

“Auspices help me,” mumbled Isaac and rubbed his closed eyes.

Peter came with Jason and Grace at his side, led by the same guard that brought Rowan there. If there was someone that Rowan hated as much as Peter, it was Minion Number 1.

“Dismissed,” said Isaac after the guard came into earshot, his voice half-whisper and half-growl. He turned to Peter and sharply smacked his tongue. He exhaled slowly and regarded him, “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You’ve jeopardized the entire mission is what.”

“Father wouldn’t allow me to leave without my bodyguard,” retorted Peter, a wronged expression on his face, which consisted of slightly furrowed brows and a slightly open mouth.

“And the girl?” asked Isaac, like a kindergarten teacher asking what was wrong.

“I begged to come with, sir,” answered Grace.

“Then you’re a lovesick loon. How do you expect to keep up with Cultivators, huh?” hissed Isaac and peered right into her eyes.

“I- I graduated the Imperial Academy with High Honors, sir. I can keep up,” said Grace, her mouth a thin line.

Isaac reminded Rowan of a certain celebrity chef.

“That’s what you think,” said Isaac and turned to Jason, and asked, “And what about you? What makes you think you can protect your Young Master?”

“I’ve graduated from the Imperial Academy as well, sir,” said Jason and bowed with his torso.

All the while, Peter stood there, dazed and eyes vacant. He’d grown pale and Rowan could spot the slightest bit of shiver in his legs.

“Have you ever fought a Demonic Beast, then? Have you?” asked Isaac. His exhaustion faded altogether and he’d grown far livelier.

“No, sir,” was Jason’s answer.

“Then I assure you, this journey will be lethal for you. Both of you, and now you’re supposed to come with. Do you understand how foolish a decision it was to abandon the safety of the caravan and the paved road for something as insignificant as this?” said Isaac and slowly exhaled once again. He shook his head and mumbled, “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

“I’m the only son of House Moore,” said Peter after finally mustering the courage to speak, “I can’t travel unattended.”

“I am protecting you. Anyone else is baggage. Heavy luggage that’ll make you sink into the mud knee-deep while Demonic Beasts try to gobble you,” said Isaac and swore underneath his breath. He rubbed his forehead for a few seconds, pulled away his hands, and asked, “He didn’t tell you to come alone, did he?”

Both Peter and Rowan shook their heads.

“I’ll get even with that bastard one day,” growled Isaac and turned to Rowan, “Your sister was in the garrison, wasn’t she? Bring her. We’ll need a modicum of competence to survive the trip.”