As Mohin passed through the gate, he was stunned by the sight before him. All the roads in the city were illuminated using some kind of magic, and even the houses used magic as a light source. The reason for his astonishment was that his village didn't use light magic; they used fire and candles.
Zak entered the city and saw Mohin dumbfounded by the view, so he said, "Is this the first time you've seen this device?"
"A device?"
"Yes, a device. Do you think an ordinary person would perform magic that lasts all night long? It's a device that stores magic and can be used for multiple purposes. But it's not free; its owner must pay for it monthly. If they don't pay, they'll stop filling the device with magic, and it becomes useless."
Mohin asked, "But if the person paying is actually a mage, can't they fill it with magic themselves?"
Zak replied, "This device can store a lot of magic—enough for an entire month. Do you think any mage can fill it whenever they want? Magic isn't a game. Humanity managed to build a machine that can absorb magic from the air. And they used some tools to transport this stored magic wherever they want."
---
A few minutes later, Zain's team finished their procedures and entered the city. Zak said, "Looks like they're done."
"Thanks for this lovely conversation, Zak." Zak was stunned for a moment, then smiled and said happily, "You're welcome."
Zain went to Mohin and said, "Mohin! Can you manage on your own from here?"
"Of course. I'm not a child after all." Zain laughed and said, "It seems our paths separate here."
"Yes, it seems so."
"Well then, goodbye, and good luck in the test."
Zain returned to his team, and Mohin turned his back to them, preparing to leave. Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him.
Mohin looked back at the team again and saw Brom walking toward him. (Step) (Step). Mohin began to tense up, and his fear increased. (Step) (Step). His heart raced as he said to himself, "Brom? Why is he coming toward me?" (Step) (Step)
"Why isn't the Outsider speaking?" (Step) "What's happening? Does he know the truth?"
Brom approached Mohin, placed his hand on Mohin's left shoulder, brought his head close to Mohin's ear, and said, "Don't listen to the voice, and don't trust it." Then he left and returned to his team.
Mohin didn't process what had happened and said to himself, "Voice? What voice does he mean? The Outsider, perhaps?"
Mohin spoke, "Hey Outsider, what did he mean?"
"What are you talking about?"
"I mean, what Brom said."
"Brom? Brom didn't say anything to you. You were standing still, and no one approached you."
Mohin thought to himself, "It's impossible that it was an illusion. Is this Brom's doing? Because the Outsider previously said that Brom disrupts his skills."
Mohin organized his thoughts a little and decided not to tell the Outsider about what had happened with him.
---
After the paths separated between Mohin and Zain's team, Mohin searched for an inn called Tara. Lord Rail had booked a room for Mohin at this inn for an entire month.
Mohin moved through the very quiet streets, looking for someone to ask, but the time was already midnight, and the streets were empty.
After about ten minutes, he heard someone singing, sitting on a wooden chair by the roadside, saying:
"The past and the void are similar. Both have no place. Both have no ruler. Both… cannot be changed."
That strange person stopped singing.
Mohin approached him and saw the man's face. He had short black hair with a light beard and sharp features. Mohin asked him, "Hello, sir. I just wanted to ask you. Do you know an inn here called Tara?"
The man stood up from the chair and replied, "Tara? I'm sorry. I don't think I know it. But if you continue down this path, you'll find several inns there. Maybe it's there."
"Thank you very much," Mohin replied.
The man asked, "May I know your name?"
"Of course. My name is Mohin."
"Just Mohin?"
"Yes."
"Then you're an orphan."
"Yes."
"My name is Haleem. If you want my full name, it's Haleem Aldecro. Nice to meet you."
"Likewise."
"Are you from a village? Because you don't seem from around here."
"Actually, yes. I'm from a distant village, and I came here to become a hunter."
Haleem asked again, but firmly, "Did you notice anything strange from the people when you entered the city because you're a villager?"
"I don't think so… Actually, yes, I noticed something. You could say I faced a bit of discrimination."
Haleem said, "Discrimination? There are two types of discrimination. First, the saying that the world discriminates between social classes—this saying was manufactured by the talentless. Under the pretext that they were born in a different environment and have no power. And they refused to acknowledge their own worth. In reality, even a villager can become an important figure, but it is he who destroyed himself, not the world. And at any moment, a miracle can appear in a villager or a noble. Even a noble can lose everything in an instant and become a disgrace to society. That is the nature of life. The second type is the noble's status in the economy. But ask yourself, where do the supplies for these nobles come from? The answer is from the villagers. You must not use the word 'discrimination' to make an excuse for yourself. Rather, prove them wrong. Prove to them that even a villager can become a hero."
Mohin smiled and said, "Of course. Of course, I'll prove it to them."
"Then farewell, Mohin. Hope you meet again."
"Farewell."
---
Mohin continued on his way until he saw eye-catching lights in the distance. He arrived at an area filled with inns. He asked here and there about Tara Inn until he finally found it. The inn wasn't luxurious; it was an ordinary, budget inn, but it was still better than some houses in his village.
Mohin opened the wooden door of the inn, and directly in front of him was a man at the reception desk. He was in his fifties, with a somewhat long beard, bald on top with long hair on the sides of his head, leaving the top area hairless.
The man spoke in a gentle voice, "Welcome to Tara Inn. My name is Ram Beer. May I help you?"
"Hello, Mr. Beer. I'm here for my reservation."
"Under whose name is the reservation?"
"Rail Nourt."
Mr. Beer took out a huge notebook and searched for the reservation.
He said, "Wait a moment. Here it is. So, you're Mohin?"
"Yes."
"May I see your ID to confirm, please?"
"Of course."
After completing the procedures, Mr. Beer took out a key and said, "Your room is number 12 on the second floor. Do you need any help carrying your bags?"
"I only have this backpack; the rest of my belongings were taken by my horse when it ran away." Mr. Beer laughed, thinking it was a joke from Mohin.
---
Mohin entered his room, threw his bag on the floor, then lay down on the bed and said to himself, "Finally. I'm in the city I've dreamed of visiting. And nothing is left for me to achieve my dream."