Inigo immediately followed Garrick towards the Elder's house where hopefully, he would get what he needed to go to the capital city.
Well—they should, right? After all, when it comes to debt of gratitude, they have a huge one on him.
The Elder was already waiting by the doorway when they arrived, her figure framed by the warm glow of the hearth behind her. Her eyes swept over Inigo, lingering briefly on his posture and the calm expression on his face.
"You've come with purpose," she said.
Inigo bowed his head slightly. "Yes, ma'am. I seek passage to the capital. Elandra."
She nodded, then stepped aside. "Come in."
The same quiet warmth from before filled the room, though this time there was a weight of preparation in the air. A small satchel and two scrolls sat neatly atop her desk, beside a sealed envelope bearing the village's crest.
"We anticipated this," she said plainly. "Your actions have earned you more than words. Inside the satchel, you'll find a merchant's travel pass, a letter of endorsement bearing the signatures of our council, and fifty silver coins for your expenses."
Inigo blinked, then stepped forward with care. "That's… more than I expected. I'm grateful."
The Elder gave a faint smile. "Consider it an investment. We believe you'll make an impression far beyond our village."
Garrick shifted his weight beside the fireplace. "A merchant caravan leaves for Elandra at first light. I'll be accompanying it. You'll come with me."
"You're going, sir?" Inigo asked, glancing at the older man.
Garrick gave a small nod. "Someone's got to keep an eye on the road—and you. Besides, with the grain shipments heading out, we'll need more than farmers guarding the wagons."
Inigo accepted the satchel and scrolls, carefully storing them in his inventory. "Understood. I'll be ready."
The Elder stepped forward once more. "The capital is not like Valebrook. It is faster. Colder. Less forgiving. But it is also where the real currents of this world move. Be careful who you trust."
"I will, ma'am."
Outside, the sounds of loading wagons and restless horses echoed across the square. Merchants moved with quiet urgency, tying down barrels and sacks, checking wheels and harnesses. The caravan was already coming together.
As they made their way back to the inn, Inigo turned to Garrick.
"How long is the journey towards the capital city?"
"Two to three days," Garrick answered, his tone even. "Depends on weather, road condition, and luck. We'll make camp at night."
"And the road?"
Garrick gave him a sidelong glance. "Bandits. Not always, but often enough. That's why the caravan pays for armed escorts. This time, they'll have me. And you."
Inigo nodded, his expression calm. "Then we'll be prepared."
***
A day later.
[50 Tokens Received from Daily]
[New Balance: 1813]
nigo sat at the edge of the inn bed, already fully dressed in his combat uniform, boots laced, vest snug against his chest. The HUD flickered once before minimizing itself, leaving him in the quiet of the early morning.
Outside, the village stirred—slow and sleepy, but with purpose. The smell of dew and old wood mixed with the faint scent of hay and horses. Somewhere, a rooster crowed.
He stepped out into the square with a steady pace, the satchel hanging off his shoulder. The concealment system kept his weapons hidden from sight, though the Desert Eagle's comforting weight still pressed against his thigh.
At the far end of the square, the caravan was already assembled. Five wagons loaded with sacks of grain and bundled goods stood in a loose line, oxen huffing lazily under the reins. A few armed men double-checked the carts—archers, a spearman, even a guy with a longsword taller than his own back.
Garrick stood near the front wagon, issuing brief orders to one of the guards before spotting Inigo.
"Right on time," Garrick said, giving a slight nod.
Inigo returned the gesture. "Yes."
The older man motioned toward the second carriage—a closed wooden cart with curtained windows and padded seats. "You'll ride in that one with me. Not exactly royal treatment, but it's better than sitting on sacks of barley."
Inigo chuckled lightly and climbed into the carriage.
It was his first time riding in one, and he expected it to be creaky, uncomfortable, and bumpy. But the moment he stepped inside, he was surprised. The padded interior was clean and simple, with just enough cushioning to make it tolerable. Garrick had already taken the window seat, one leg resting over the other, a small canteen by his side.
Inigo settled across from him.
The carriage swayed gently as the driver climbed aboard. A sharp whistle followed, and the caravan began to move.
"You ever traveled this far before?" Garrick asked, eyes watching the trees slip by through the window.
Inigo shook his head. "No, sir. First time. Closest thing I've had to this was loading screens between zones."
Garrick raised a brow, but didn't question it.
"Well, get used to it. The road's long, and we won't be riding in silence the whole way. Three days if we're lucky."
"And if we're not?" Inigo asked.
"Two things to worry about," Garrick said, his tone sharpening. "Bandits who want what we carry. And creatures who don't care what you carry. Either way, we stay alert."
Inigo leaned back against the wood paneling and looked out the curtain.
Three days to Elandra.
Three days to see what the world truly looked like beyond Valebrook.
He couldn't wait.
After all, all the isekai anime he had watched always had that arc—the capital city. A place where the true plot began. Where nobles stirred the pot, adventurers found fame, and mysterious girls with tragic pasts inevitably crossed paths with the protagonist.
Maybe he'd meet someone like that.
Maybe not.
Either way, Elandra wasn't just a destination.
It was the next level.
He tightened his grip on the window's wooden frame as the caravan rumbled forward.
Whatever awaited him there—be it politics, danger, or destiny—he was no longer the same player.
He was armed. He was ready.