Roa's Subordinate Town—Turan

Following the caravan, they continued southeast.

Cui Ciyou noticed that the scenery around them was gradually beginning to change as well.

They were slowly leaving that vast primeval forest that seemed endless, always permeated by a dark, damp atmosphere.

The towering trees lining the road began to thin out, and more and more gaps appeared in the dense canopy, allowing warm sunlight to spill onto the ground.

The underbrush was no longer so dense, and the terrain gradually became flatter and more open, with rolling emerald hills and winding clear rivers occasionally coming into view.

The air also seemed much drier, while the distinctive scent of decaying vegetation and damp soil from deep within the forest gradually faded away.

In its place came a more open fragrance, filled with the warmth of sunlight and the fresh scent of earth.

Clearly cultivated fields, laid out in neat strips, even began to appear by the roadside.

Cui Ciyou did not recognize a single crop growing in them—there were plants resembling wheat but with reddish grains, as well as vines bearing purple tubers.

(Aslan Wheat—bread ingredient, one of the most common staple foods in the Asla Kingdom.)

Simple farmhouses built from stone and rough timber also began to appear sporadically in view.

They even encountered a somewhat larger group on the road, one that looked like an actual merchant caravan.

There were also pedestrians pushing handcarts or carrying bundles, who appeared to be nearby villagers or small-time peddlers.

Carl's group had standardized weapons and was a caravan made up of adventurers and mercenaries.

There were three types of caravans:

First, caravans affiliated with large merchant associations that hired adventurers and mercenaries.

Second, small caravans primarily made up of poor commoners or individuals, without armed escorts. Or rather than caravans, they were more like peddlers.

Third, caravans formed from former adventurers, mercenaries, retired kingdom soldiers, and the like.

When these people saw Carl's group, which was clearly an armed escort team, most wore expressions of awe and caution and proactively stepped aside to let them pass.

The road also became easier and easier to travel.

Though it was not an asphalt road, it was at least a dirt road suitable for carriages, albeit one with a few potholes.

Still, it was clearly much wider and smoother than the paths in the forest, which had been nearly swallowed by nature.

It was covered in numerous clear wheel ruts and dense hoofprints, showing that human activity here was far more frequent.

All these changes clearly indicated that they were steadily approaching a human settlement.

Finally, after another two days or so of arduous travel,

a small but clearly defined town, brimming with signs of life, appeared beneath the gently rolling hills in the distance.

The town was built against a low, gentle hill, with a simple defensive palisade made of thick logs surrounding its outskirts.

Beyond the palisade seemed to be a narrow, muddy ditch.

Perhaps it was only for drainage and keeping out wild beasts, Cui Ciyou thought.

Inside the town, rows of orderly yet unevenly arranged houses could be seen.

Most were two or three stories high, made of wood or mixed stone and timber, their roofs covered with thatch or dark gray tiles.

Several wisps of cooking smoke curled upward and slowly dispersed beneath the azure sky, giving the place the charm of a medieval European village on Earth.

"Fortress city... Roa—subordinate town... Turan."

At the front of the group, Carl raised a rough hand and pointed toward the hazy outline of the town in the sunlight.

In her hoarse voice, she spoke the town's name.

Fortress city—Roa... Turan Town... Why does the name Roa sound so familiar?

I'm certain I've heard or seen that name somewhere before.

Cui Ciyou silently turned the two place names over in his mind again, unable to shake the inexplicable sense of familiarity.

The group slowly advanced toward Turan Town.

As they drew closer, the town's outline became increasingly clear:

At the town entrance, several guards in simple leather armor stood watch lazily with spears in hand;

In the fields outside town, farmers in coarse clothing bent over their work;

Faint crowing and barking drifted from afar, completing the scene of a medieval European town.

At the entrance, Carl stepped forward and exchanged a few words with the gate guards, seemingly producing some form of identification or travel document.

The guards carefully inspected the goods and people. Their gazes lingered noticeably longer on Cui Ciyou than on the others, filled with curiosity and scrutiny.

Is it because this world resembles medieval Europe, so people with black hair and black eyes are rare?

Or is the material and style of this modern black hoodie just too strange?

Come to think of it, the people in the caravan all have rather white-looking features, Cui Ciyou mused.

In the end, the guards waved them through.

Upon entering the town, an even richer and more complicated sense of human activity washed over them.

The streets were paved with a mixture of dirt and gravel. They were uneven, even muddy in places, and littered with animal droppings and household refuse.

The air was filled with the smoky scent of burning firewood, the musky odor of livestock, and the aroma of some kind of food.

Perhaps baked bread? Or perhaps some kind of otherworldly spice.

Further in, there were also the smells of leather and timber, along with the indescribable mixed odor of crowds.

All manner of shops and workshops lined both sides of the street.

Blacksmith shops gave off clanging hammer blows and waves of heat;

Bakeries exuded an enticing wheat fragrance;

General stores had all kinds of household goods piled at their entrances, including pottery, cloth, and rope;

There were leather goods shops, and even a weapons shop with a sword-and-shield sign hanging outside.

Occasionally, they could spot one or two taverns or inns with signs bearing sheaves of wheat or wine cups, faint clamor drifting out from within.

There were far more pedestrians on the streets than outside town, most of them plainly dressed commoners with weathered faces.

There were also peddlers pushing handcarts, craftsmen carrying tools, and a few hurried travelers or mercenaries armed like Carl's group.

Cui Ciyou's exceptionally conspicuous black hoodie, along with his black hair, black eyes, and tall stature that clearly differed from the locals, once again attracted countless curious, probing, astonished, and even slightly rejecting gazes.

He did not care, merely following the group with an expressionless face.

Carl was clearly very familiar with Turan Town. She skillfully led the group through several main streets, avoiding the crowded areas.

At last, they stopped before a large post station on the western side of town, apparently the biggest establishment around, combining the functions of an inn, stable, warehouse, and tavern.

From Carl's scattered remarks, Cui Ciyou learned that their caravan's route roughly ran from the "Fitoia Territory" to the "Royal Capital—Yalsdu."

"All right, we're here," Carl said in the human language.

"Rest here for now, replenish our supplies, and deal with the goods."

After settling the carriages, cargo, and exhausted horses,

Carl instructed Dak and several other guards to remain at the post station and stand watch. She herself took two other experienced guards with her, preparing to go somewhere in town—perhaps a merchant association, perhaps an office of the lord's estate—to complete the handover procedures or report the situation.

Before leaving, Carl deliberately walked over to Cui Ciyou and said in a grateful tone:

"Mr. Cui Ciyou, you saved us. Thank you very much."

"Rest here. If you need anything, tell my son—Dak."

As she spoke, she pointed at Dak beside her.

Dak immediately straightened his chest, looked at Cui Ciyou with sincere eyes, and nodded vigorously, looking as though he were saying, "Leave it to me!"

Cui Ciyou looked at the father and son, then nodded.

He replied with equally simple words. "All right... thank you."

After more than three months of study, he had basically mastered the human language and could communicate with people well enough.

Carl smiled, patted Cui Ciyou on the shoulder, then hurried away with the others.