As we approached the grand city of Quyaz, the golden glow of the evening sun cast a warm, almost ethereal light on its tall stone walls. I could see the tops of majestic towers and domes rising behind the walls, and in the distance, the faint hum of market sounds, chatter, and foreign accents melded into a symphony of activity. Quyaz, larger and livelier than I expected, felt almost as grand as Zeonica but with an unmistakable Aserai charm. This city seemed chaotic and inviting, as if every corner held the promise of a new encounter and opportunity.

At the gates, however, our enthusiastic approach was dampened by the guards stationed at the entrance. Their eyes narrowed as they took in our appearance, and I could tell from their expressions that they weren’t thrilled to see outsiders like us entering their sacred city. One of them, a broad-shouldered man with a grizzled beard, stepped forward, clearly the one in charge, and raised his hand to stop us.

"Ten denars if you want entrance," he said gruffly, his hand held out expectantly.

I met his gaze, noticing the unwavering firmness in his eyes. I briefly considered arguing but realized it would be more trouble than it was worth. A glance at Sora and the others told me they felt the same. Drawing a few coins from my pouch, I handed them over without protest, accepting the minor irritation as the price for keeping a low profile.

“Here,” I said, handing him the money. The guard nodded, his expression unchanging as he stepped aside to let us pass.

As we entered the city, we were immediately met with a dazzling array of sights and sounds. Quyaz was nothing short of a vibrant marketplace on a massive scale. Stalls and shops lined the main street, their owners calling out to passersby in a mix of Aserai and broken Imperial. The merchants sold everything from fragrant spices and exotic silks to intricately crafted jewelry and sturdy weapons. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meats, incense, and the faint tang of the desert. As we walked further, I realized this place wasn’t just a city—it was a hub of cultures converging, each one bringing a unique flavor to the atmosphere.

I turned to Sora, who was taking it all in with a fascinated but slightly overwhelmed look. “Sora,” I said, “why don’t you and Silvana find a place where our wounded can rest? We’ve got enough funds to cover a few weeks of stay, so let’s make it comfortable for everyone.”

She nodded, giving me a determined look. “We’ll take care of it. I’ll make sure the children and the injured have everything they need,” she said, casting a glance over at Alea and Phasos, who seemed exhausted from the journey.

“Thank you, Sora. Take some recruits with you. They’ll make sure no one causes trouble.”

Turning to Nathanos, I told him, “Join me in the square with Leon and the rest. I’ll need you in full armor to draw the attention of some well-paying employers.”

Nathanos grinned, his usual steely gaze showing a flicker of pride. I had instructed him to wear the heavy armor we’d looted from the bandits we fought on our way here, and now, amid the bustling marketplace, he looked every bit the warrior. His imposing figure, clad in gleaming iron, gave him an air of authority that was difficult to ignore. It was a strategy I hoped would convey strength to any potential employer, marking us as seasoned mercenaries who were here for serious business.

While Nathanos was getting equipped I instructed Leon and some recruits that I and Nathanos were going to gather some information while its our duty to protect the children and the wounded.

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Leon nodded in agreement and we left to find a potential contract.

After making sure everyone knew their tasks, I took a moment to look around the city square. Quyaz, as Sora had mentioned, was not only a significant city but one with deep religious roots in the Aserai kingdom. It was a place where traditions held weight, and respect was shown to those who earned it. The streets were lively, but there was a palpable tension in the air, an underlying awareness of impending conflict that seemed to darken the otherwise vibrant atmosphere. Conversations drifted past me, snippets of chatter about Aserai warriors, Sultan's preparations for war, and rumors of an upcoming invasion of Valandia. The whispers of war seemed to hang over everyone, adding an intensity to the city’s usual bustle.

As I walked through the square, taking in the sounds of merchants haggling, the clinking of gold, and the spirited debates between customers and sellers, I overheard a group of mercenaries speaking in low tones. They looked like they’d been through their share of battles—scarred, wary, and restless. I decided to approach them, hoping they might share some insights about securing contracts with the Aserai army.

“Good day,” I greeted them, giving a respectful nod.

They looked me over with guarded expressions, sizing me up. One of them, a wiry man with a dark beard, inclined his head slightly. “Good day to you, stranger. What brings an Imperial to Quyaz?”

“We’re a mercenary group,” I explained, keeping my tone friendly but confident. “I’ve heard the Aserai are preparing for something big. Thought we might find some work here.”

They exchanged glances before the wiry man spoke again. “Aye, you’re not wrong. The Sultan is gathering a force, something Calradia hasn’t seen in years. Word is they’re planning a preemptive strike on Valandia. If you’re looking to join, you’ll want to head to the Governor’s palace. The recruiters are there.”

I thanked them and turned back toward the palace, my pulse quickening. A contract with the Aserai army could be lucrative, and I knew that securing one could be the breakthrough our group needed. I gestured for Nathanos to follow, his armored figure drawing the curious glances I’d hoped for as we walked.

As we approached the Governor’s palace, the guards eyed us with suspicion. Once inside, I was struck by the intricate architecture and the opulence of the place. The walls were adorned with gold filigree and intricate mosaics, and I could smell incense burning somewhere deeper in the palace. The entire place had an aura of reverence, a testament to the city’s religious importance.

After a short wait, I was led to the recruiter. He was an older man, with sharp eyes that seemed to take in everything at a glance. He was seated behind a desk, a pile of papers in front of him, and a quill in his hand.

“State your business,” he said curtly, not looking up from his writing.

“We’re an Imperial mercenary group seeking enlistment in the Aserai army,” I replied, keeping my tone polite.

He finally looked up, his gaze lingering on me for a moment before shifting to Nathanos, his eyebrows raised in mild surprise. “An Imperial who speaks our tongue. Unusual. Are you a fallen noble, by any chance?”

I shook my head, feeling a flicker of satisfaction at his interest. “Just a mercenary looking for work.”

As I spoke, someone jostled me from behind. I turned to see a large, impatient man glaring at me, clearly annoyed that I was taking up time in the recruiter’s presence.

“Move it along, Imperial. I’m not waiting all day,” he sneered, pushing me again.

I felt a surge of irritation and instinctively placed my hand on my sword, stepping back to face him. “You’ve got a problem? Maybe you’d like to discuss it outside,” I said, keeping my voice steady but laced with an edge.

He looked at me, then at Nathanos standing beside me in full armor, and I saw his face pale slightly. After a tense pause, he muttered something and stepped back, deciding he’d rather avoid a confrontation.

The recruiter, who had watched the exchange with a sharp gaze, stood up and closed his ledger. “Come with me,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.