The tavern

Experience told him that bringing three dragons into a city this large was like pulling teeth from a tiger's mouth-too much commotion, too obvious a target.

He needed to keep a low profile. After all, riding a dragon and sporting such distinctive silver hair and purple eyes, there was no telling what kind of scene his arrival would cause.

So he changed direction and guided the dragons down quietly into a dense, rarely visited forest on the outskirts of the city.

Redd climbed down from his dragon's back and patted King Ghidorah, who had leaned closer,

then checked on Ehm and Aegon. Only after confirming that they were all settled did he feel at ease enough to act alone.

He decided to leave the dragons behind and head into the city alone to scout things out, find out the exact date, and learn more about the situation here.

He made a few simple preparations, slinging a substantial-looking shield onto his back. It would serve as both a means of defense and a way to conceal his figure.

He wore a longsword at his waist and hid a dagger against the inside of each thigh to make sure he could handle any unexpected trouble.

Apart from his weapons, he brought nothing extra, trying to look as much like an ordinary traveler as possible. The only drawback was that his clothes were a little too ragged.

After saying goodbye to the three dragons, Redd took a deep breath, pushed aside the branches and leaves, and set off alone toward the distant city of Volantis.

When he reached the countryside outside the city, he saw a few commoners working or chatting. He approached them casually, pretending to ask for directions while fishing for information.

They clearly saw nothing special about this dusty, grimy young stranger and readily told him:

"Oh, you mean that big city?

That's Volantis, the southernmost city in the Free Federation, and one of its largest ports!"

With that confirmed, Redd felt more certain. He gazed toward the bustling city, planning his next move.

In the end, Redd decided to go into the city and have a look.

At the very least, he needed a decent meal first.

Volantis, the southernmost city in the Free Federation, certainly lived up to its reputation.

It was not merely large but breathtakingly grand. Towering white stone walls, exquisite archways, and streets stretching to the horizon all exuded an air of ancient prosperity.

Inside the city, crowds streamed past-merchants, sailors, mercenaries, scholars from all over the world...

People of every complexion and in every kind of clothing jostled shoulder to shoulder, while vendors' cries and conversations in all manner of accents mingled with the clatter of hooves and the rumble of wheels,

forming a vibrant, noisy panorama of city life.

Redd carefully concealed his striking silver hair beneath a wide-brimmed hood, trying to blend into the bustling crowds and draw less attention.

Yet he could no longer hide his distinctive purple eyes.

In this era, purple eyes were exceedingly rare, almost a natural marker of his identity.

All he could do was keep his head lowered as much as possible and avoid meeting anyone's eyes.

As he stepped into the port city, Redd drew a deep breath,

and the air, laden with salty sea breezes, spices, food, and all manner of indescribable city smells, gave him a long-lost sense of familiarity.

He saw many merchants followed by long caravans laden with rare and precious goods,

hurrying along surrounded by guards. The streets were somewhat crowded, but that was precisely what Redd had hoped for.

It had been a year since he had experienced the bustle of human life. That noisy, chaotic, yet vibrant feeling

allowed his nerves, stretched taut by repeated escapes and battles, to relax a little.

Yet this fleeting goodwill was soon shattered by one sickening sight after another.

Before he had gone far, Redd saw the horrifying slave caravans.

Groups of ragged, emaciated people were chained together, heavy shackles around their necks, driven slowly through the streets by whips and shouted orders.

Among them were old people, women, and children, their eyes filled with fear and despair.

Redd's expression instantly darkened, his face like thunder.

Though he had never personally experienced the suffering of life as a slave, the original memories he had inherited from his body's former owner

gave him an instinctive, deeply rooted loathing for the caravans of mercenary companies that specialized in capturing slaves.

After all, before losing their protection, the original owner and his family had often been chased by these fiendish mercenaries, living in hiding with no assurance they would survive another day.

The original owner in particular, with his silver hair and purple eyes, would undoubtedly have been prime merchandise on the slave market. Many noble lords favored that sort of appearance and longed to possess him.

At the thought, Redd clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles turned white.

Redd turned his head away in disgust, refusing to look any longer at the slaves being herded along like livestock.

He had to leave this place as soon as possible and find somewhere to have a proper meal and replenish his strength,

while also gathering some useful information from these noisy crowds.

His gaze began searching the crowded street. Before long, a brightly lit, boisterous tavern with an ale flag hanging outside caught his attention.

Redd pushed open the door and walked in.

The tavern was even more crowded inside than it looked from outside, and the air was thick with alcohol, tobacco, and sweat,

all mingling into a distinctive smell that belonged to the lower rungs of society.

Every seat at the bar and tables was occupied. There were mercenaries in leather armor and unshaven sailors,

along with a few dandies who looked like minor nobles, all drinking, chatting, and playing finger-guessing games at the top of their lungs, making enough noise to nearly lift the roof.

Redd walked straight to the bar and lifted his hood a little, revealing his slightly pale face and striking purple eyes.

In a loud, lavish manner, he called to the man behind the bar:

"Barkeep! Give me the most expensive, tastiest food you have! And a bottle of your best red wine!"

The barkeeper, a somewhat slick-looking middle-aged man, saw that Redd was young, looking barely in his teens,

and wore ragged robes washed pale, with a heavy-looking shield on his back and a sword at his waist. For a moment, he was taken aback.

He regarded Redd doubtfully. Though he had noticed the cold, hard bearing that set the boy apart from ordinary people,

he still could not help worrying-was this brat here to eat and drink without paying?

While the barkeeper hesitated, Redd impatiently took out a gleaming gold coin and casually placed it on the rough wooden bar.

One glance at the coin's design and quality made it clear that this was no ordinary currency.

The barkeeper's eyes widened instantly. He could barely believe what he was seeing.

A Gold Dragon!

In this little tavern, that gold coin was enough for him to live it up for an entire night, if not longer!

He immediately plastered a fawning smile across his face and briskly called to the kitchen to get things ready:

"Right away! Just a moment, sir. Our finest beef and lamb, and our richest red wine, coming right up!"

Before long, steaming roast beef and lamb were brought out, with a bottle of deep red wine set beside them.