The city was louder than the night.
Not chaotic… just alive.
Warm lantern light spilled from windows and street posts, painting the stone roads gold. Even this late, people still moved—talking, laughing, trading, living. The smell of roasted meat, baked bread, and sweet fruit drifted through the air.
Iris walked slowly, hands in her coat pockets, eyes scanning everything.
Not searching for danger.
Just… adjusting.
Different place. Different city. Still alone.
Her boots tapped lightly against the stone as she passed rows of shops. Weapons. Jewelry. Books. Tools.
Then—
Clothes.
She stopped.
"…Yeah. Probably should."
If assassins were hunting Aurelion, then anyone connected to him could become a target too. Her current outfit was recognizable enough.
So she stepped inside.
The shop was quiet, warm, and packed with fabrics. Simple travel wear, cloaks, boots, common dresses—nothing flashy, nothing noble.
Perfect.
Iris didn't overthink it. Dark coat. Light inner shirt. Flexible boots. A hood.
Comfortable. Practical. Forgettable.
Exactly what she needed.
She paid, ignored the shopkeeper's curious stare at her small frame, and walked out already wearing the new outfit.
The night air hit her again.
Fresh.
Free.
"…Better."
Then her stomach growled.
Loud.
Iris froze.
"…Right. Food."
She turned toward the food stalls lining the brighter street. There were too many choices.
Fruit skewers dripping with juice. Fresh bread stacked high. Roasted meat sizzling over fire. Sweet pastries dusted with sugar.
Iris stared.
"…How am I supposed to choose?"
Silence.
Then—
"…I won't."
Minutes later, she walked away holding a little bit of everything, stuffing food into her coat pockets and bag while eating at the same time.
Bread first. Then fruit. Then meat. Then something sweet.
Chewing.
Walking.
Living.
For a moment… it felt normal.
Then she saw it.
A small open-front tavern. Wooden tables outside. Soft lantern glow. People quietly drinking and talking.
Beer.
Iris stopped walking.
"…Oh."
She walked in.
The bartender squinted at her immediately.
"…Kid."
Iris dropped coins on the table.
"I'm paying."
"…You're a child."
More coins.
"I'm paying more."
Pause.
The bartender sighed.
"…Two?"
Iris nodded.
"Yes. Two."
She sat outside with two mugs of beer, food still in hand. She ate. She drank.
Foam touched her lips.
Cold.
Bitter.
Perfect.
Minutes passed.
Then silence returned—not around her, but inside.
Iris leaned back slightly, staring at the night sky above the rooftops.
"…Now what?"
No answer.
She clicked her tongue softly.
"Damn it… why am I the one alone?"
Her fingers tapped lightly against the mug.
"He's a king… and he walks around with only one knight… chasing a Demon King."
Pause.
"…What kind of king even does that?"
Her eyes lowered slightly.
"And he didn't even tell me."
A small breath left her nose.
Not angry.
Just… bothered.
Then—
A thought.
A small one.
But sharp.
Iris blinked once.
"…Wait."
Her lips curled slightly.
"If he's going to gather companions anyway…"
A slow grin appeared.
"…then I'll just help him."
Her eyes gleamed faintly.
"A king with more allies… survives longer."
Pause.
Then—
"And maybe… I'll get unlimited beer out of it."
A quiet laugh escaped her.
Yeah. That sounds fair.
She finished the last bite of food. Drank the rest of her beer. Stood up.
Decision made.
Direction chosen.
Not by fate.
Not by duty.
Just because she wanted to.
Iris pulled her hood slightly lower and began walking into the living night of the city.
Somewhere out there—
The road would cross again.