After completing their registration, the clerk beckoned to them. "Come on. I'll take you to your quarters."
He introduced himself as they walked. "My name is Halom. I'm from the Old Bone Tribe. This is my third year as a registered citizen of Red Tide, and I'm responsible for welcoming new residents to the outer city."
Kosa walked at the rear. At first, his pace was slow, his eyes constantly scanning his surroundings. Like a young animal unfamiliar with its environment, he instinctively wanted to keep his distance.
But the farther they walked, the quieter he became.
The road beneath their feet was paved with gray-white stone bricks, each astonishingly uniform.
There was no mud along the streets, no scattered fodder, and no sewage in sight.
The drains were partially covered stone channels topped with iron grates. Clear water flowed inside, without even a trace of foam.
Kosa unconsciously drew his steps closer together.
There were plenty of voices in the distance, but no shouting or squabbling, only an orderly bustle unlike anything he had ever heard.
Kosa lowered his head and kept walking.
He could hear the footsteps of several barbarian boys behind him noticeably slowing.
Some murmured among themselves, while others stood gaping. Their shock and envy hardly needed words.
This was their first time seeing a city like this.
The streets and buildings alone put Red Tide miles ahead of their haphazardly built wooden huts.
Tribal bloodlines, ancestral protection-whatever they claimed, it all seemed painfully shabby here.
"Incredible..." The boy walking on his right could not help murmuring. "So this is Red Tide... This is civilization..."
His name was Besha. He was a year older than them and the nephew of a small tribe's clan head.
He had said little on the journey, but from the moment