Novels2Search

Pitzysil

"We're finally here," Enric said, looking towards the city, now visible in the distance.

Jonan didn't respond, only a faint smile appearing on his face.

The city was encircled by a stone wall stretching around its entirety, with guards positioned atop it, scanning the surroundings.

At the city gates stood two soldiers dressed in iron armor, each with a sword at their side.

As the group approached the gate, one of the guards stopped them, saying, "Entry fee is 15 silver coins."

Enric took out a pouch from his pocket, retrieved 15 coins, and handed them to the guard.

As they entered, Jonan, seeing the city for the first time,

gazed around open-mouthed, taking in wooden houses, people bustling in the streets,

A water fountain near the entrance, and various merchant stalls.

Noticing Jonan's excitement, Enric said, "Jonan, you and Cham Cham can go explore and enjoy the city.

I'll arrange our lodging and storage for the goods.

But don't forget my warning—stay within the first section of the city, where the guards patrol, and if you see a noble, step aside immediately."

Jonan and Cham Cham nodded, waving goodbye to Enric as he continued further into the city with the wagon.

"Want to grab a drink at a nearby bar? There's a decent one a few minutes away," Cham Cham asked.

Jonan nodded quietly, still preoccupied with the events of the previous day.

On their way to the tavern, Cham Cham began speaking, "Jonan, listen, I... never mind."

He hesitated and didn't finish his sentence.

Jonan looked directly into Cham Cham's eyes, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Cham, you can talk to me. It's about Tim, right?"

Cham Cham replied, his voice shaking, "Yes… Tim and I grew up together. We weren't blood brothers, but there was no one I trusted more.

I would have died for him. But now I'm not sure—what if that wasn't really Tim? What if Tim is still out there, waiting for someone to save him?

I can't shake that thought, Jonan," Cham Cham said, trembling slightly.

Jonan sighed, "Cham, I know what it's like to lose family. There's nothing more painful. But Tim is dead.

I saw it happen while you were asleep. All you can do now is live so his death won't be in vain. Keep moving forward—that's how you honor him."

Cham Cham nodded, calming down slightly, and they quietly continued toward the bar.

Meanwhile, Enric proceeded alone with the wagon toward the inn. "I hope those two will be alright," he thought to himself, sighing as he recalled his last visit to this place.

"Is this the place?" Jonan asked Cham Cham. Cham Cham glanced at the faded sign hanging above the door—Pitzysil.

"Yes, that's the place," Cham Cham answered, seeming slightly recovered from their earlier conversation.

They entered the small bar, which had four tables, each with three chairs, and a counter lined with ten small stools.

Behind the counter stood a man in his thirties, with brown hair and a mustache. "Welcome," he greeted Jonan and Cham Cham as they approached. "What can I get you?"

Without hesitation, Cham Cham replied, "I'll take one Kentucky—actually, make that two Kentuckys."

Jonan and Cham Cham sat by the counter. Jonan asked, "Cham, what's this 'Kentucky' you ordered?"

Cham Cham responded casually, "Oh, it's just a mild drink. Not too strong, don't worry." Jonan nodded.

Barely three minutes later, the bartender handed them two bottles, saying, "That's 50 coins." Cham Cham exclaimed,

"Fifty?! Last time I was here, it cost half that!" His expression was shocked and annoyed.

"Well, friend, that's inflation. If you don't like it, you can leave,"

the bartender replied sharply. Cham Cham sighed, pulled out a pouch of coins, counted out 50, and handed them over.

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

"Thieves," he muttered towards Jonan. Jonan offered a slight smile,

"Don't make a big deal of it. Let's just enjoy the quiet."

"To tell the truth," Cham Cham began, but before he could finish, two knights clad in iron armor entered the bar,

escorting a young woman no older than twenty. Her hair was snow-white, her eyes gray, and she wore an elegant purple dress. Her skin was paler than fresh snowflakes.

She hurried toward the counter and raised her voice at the bartender.

"Kisha, what's the meaning of this?" she shouted angrily, her voice echoing throughout the bar.

"I paid you for 30 bottles of Whishezal, and you gave me only five! Five bottles! How could this happen? Do I look stupid to you?"

Jonan was stunned. He'd never heard a woman speak like this, let alone a noblewoman. It intrigued him more than he'd like to admit.

"Alright, alright," Kisha, the bartender, responded nervously. "Your Ladyship, I'll resolve this issue.

Give me until the end of the day, and instead of 30 bottles, I'll deliver 40. Please, calm down."

The mysterious noblewoman sighed deeply, "You better." She turned sharply toward Jonan,

"And you—don't you think it's rude to stare at a lady like that? Hmph, you little vermin!"

Jonan, startled, didn't know what to say; he'd always been shy around women, and thoughts of Princess Naora suddenly filled his mind.

Cham Cham quickly stepped in, saying, "Your Ladyship, I apologize for my friend here.

He's new around these parts and doesn't speak our language." Cham Cham's voice was steady but lacked credibility,

yet it seemed sufficient to calm the mysterious noblewoman.

"I suppose I can forgive this," she said, her voice becoming calmer. "Besides, I shouldn't have reacted so harshly either. My apologies."

Cham Cham sighed in relief. Standing with his drink still in hand, he grabbed Jonan to leave,

but before they could reach the tavern door, she stopped them. "Wait. Tell your friend, who supposedly can't speak, to come closer,"

she demanded softly but firmly. Cham Cham's mouth went dry; he'd never been good with words—Tim had always gotten him out of situations like these.

Jonan regained his composure and bowed respectfully, saying smoothly, "I apologize deeply for my rudeness, Your Ladyship. It's just that I find myself speechless in the presence of a woman as beautiful as yourself."

The noblewoman blushed slightly, momentarily caught off guard, but quickly regained her composure and responded sharply,

"So, you do know how to speak after all. Very well, arrest them!"

Immediately, she called out to her knights, who approached Jonan and Cham Cham with drawn swords.

Cham Cham reached instinctively for his own sword, but Jonan stopped him, saying calmly, "Your Ladyship, we will not fight. We only ask for your mercy." His voice was steady, his expression unreadable.

Meanwhile, Enric sighed contentedly as he relaxed in a hot bath at the inn. "Finally, some rest," he mumbled to himself.

"I wonder what those two are doing now. Well, no need to worry. Cham Cham knows his way around the city."

Back with Jonan and Cham Cham, the noblewoman's knights escorted them to the edge of the city, throwing them roughly into a prison cell.

The knights took everything they had—armor, swords, and even their coin pouches.

Cham Cham immediately started complaining, frustration clear on his face. "Why did you stop me? Look at where we've ended up! Not only did they take our armor and weapons, but they even took all the money Picha gave us.

They took my Kentucky, Jonan! The Kentucky!" he grumbled angrily.

Jonan whispered sharply, "Shhh! Quiet, she's coming."

The mysterious noblewoman appeared, standing calmly before them, just outside the bars.