Under the respectful gaze of the guards, Alaric led Circe through the gates and into the city.
In this era, human civilization was still far from advanced; its institutions and productivity could not sustain large nations.
Most "countries" were in truth mere city-states, one city, one nation.
A realm like Thessaly, which contained several cities and even a true capital, was already counted among the rare "great" nations.
Thus, as the capital of such a nation, Iolcos was in fact more prosperous than most other Greek cities.
Here, the streets were lined with stone houses, not tall by any means, many of them little more than single-story dwellings.
Generally, homes near the city walls belonged to commoners, while the closer one moved to the city's center, the grander the houses became.
The streets there bustled with life, filled with shops and vendors, the true heart of the city.
Perhaps because it was her first time in such a large city, Circe wandered about like a curious child, lingering before every kind of shop, marveling at everything she saw.
She even paused to study the simplest vegetable stands.
Whether out of respect for her exquisite attire or awe at her unearthly beauty, the townsfolk greeted the curious visitor with deference and care.
Yet in the end, Circe disappointed them.
She didn't buy a thing.
"Hmph…" she grumbled, returning to Alaric's side and tugging at his hand.
"They call this the capital of a kingdom? There's nothing special about it!
No beautiful clothes, no enchanted jewelry, the fruits and vegetables are so plain… only more people, that's all! Compared to the Heart of Spellcraft, this place is pathetic."
Hearing the little "princess" complain, Alaric could only shake his head with a helpless smile.
"You really don't understand how hard life is for ordinary people. The Heart of Spellcraft and this place, how could they possibly be compared?
Everything there, every fruit, every vegetable, every object, is created with magic. But here, these are just mortals. Don't expect too much of them."
"But even leaving magical items aside, it's still worse than the Heart of Spellcraft!" Circe pointed toward a fabric shop and a tailor's across the street.
"Look at those buildings and those clothes, they're so ugly!"
"Heh." Alaric rolled his eyes.
"If I hadn't personally designed the uniforms and architecture for Mystra Academy, that place might look just as bad.
You've never been to the temples on Mount Olympus, grand, yes, but they're just this same style taken to the extreme."
"So you're saying that we get to live in such beautiful places and wear such lovely clothes all thanks to you, huh?
My, my, Headmaster, are you praising yourself?" Circe covered her mouth, giggling as she teased him.
But Alaric shamelessly admitted it.
"Of course. Why else do you think Aphrodite likes me?"
That left Circe momentarily speechless.
'You make such a good point, I have no words to refute you!'
After a pause, she muttered under her breath, "I think it's because she likes how thick your skin is."
Though her voice was low, Alaric's hearing was sharp enough to catch it.
He shot her a glare, and she stuck out her tongue playfully.
"If you really want to compare, you should think of your brother's city, Colchis," Alaric said after a moment. "For a human city, Colchis is even worse than this."
"Yeah, yeah, I know." Circe's tone turned listless.
"I was so excited for this journey, but it's been nothing but disappointment, boring travel, shabby cities, nothing fun at all.
Now I understand why Senior Daedalus never leaves the Academy."
"Who can blame her?" Alaric chuckled, leading Circe into what seemed to be one of the finer taverns, relatively speaking.
"But this isn't all there is, you haven't tried the local food yet."
At that, Circe's face fell immediately.
"No! I don't want to try it! Just thinking about what these mortals can make… ugh. Hey, hey, did you bring any ingredients from the Academy?"
She looked at him hopefully.
"Of course I did," Alaric replied with a nod. "I can't stomach their food either. Still, we should at least give it a try.
We'll probably be eating like this for quite some time, better get used to it early."
He led her upstairs and chose a seat by the window. Before long, a server came to take their order.
Alaric noticed that at the next table sat several tall, broad-shouldered young men. One glance told him their physiques were far beyond those of ordinary mortals, true warriors.
His own noble bearing and Circe's unusual beauty naturally drew their attention as well. When the two sat down, the men even nodded in greeting.
Given the heavy flow of travelers through Iolcos, the tavern was bustling, and it took quite a while before the so-called "signature dishes" finally arrived.
Perhaps these meals were considered delicacies even among Greek nobles, but to Circe, who had grown used to dishes prepared by spirit maids, drawn from the finest cuisines of four thousand years in the future, the coarse roast meat, murky ale, and bland vegetables were utterly unpalatable.
"Ugh… I can't take it anymore," she groaned after forcing down a sip of barley porridge, nearly gagging. "This food is awful! I miss my own 'Kykeon' so much right now!"
Alaric shot her a look.
"Your 'Kykeon' isn't exactly something ordinary people can eat," he said, forcing himself to swallow a mouthful of meat.
"Come on, stop being picky. Otherwise, you'll have an even harder time later."
"But it's really terrible~" Circe whimpered, eating reluctantly.
At that moment, the men at the next table were happily discussing the exquisite taste of Iolcos' food.
One of them even declared loudly that the cuisine of Iolcos was among the finest in all of Greece.
Hearing this, Circe muttered under her breath, disdainful, "You call this a delicacy? What country bumpkins."
Unfortunately, the men's hearing was far better than she imagined.
They heard her insult, and immediately took offense. Rising to their feet, they strode over to Alaric and Circe's table.
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