The blinding morning light shone in through the inn’s window onto Mican’s eyes as he rolled over in his sleep, blinding him.

“Urgh…” Raising a hand to block the light, the young man groggily opened his eyes.

“Mican, you’re finally awake?” The light voice of a boy called out to him from the side.

The still tired Mican shook off his grogginess, wiping his eyes with his arms and sitting up to meet the face of Duarte who had been seated by the table. The book that Mican had been reading the night before was in his hands, the pages crinkled and flipped carelessly.

“Duarte? You haven’t gone down yet?” The young man rubbed his eyes, confused.

“W-well… I just felt like reading for a bit, I suppose.” The black-haired teen scratched his chin, looking off to the side.

According to the ‘finally’ that Duarte had spoken, it was clear to Mican that the teenager had been waiting for him to wait up.

“How long have you been waiting? Or, um… reading?”

“Not long at all. I always wake up at the crack of dawn, so…”

“Well now that I’m up, how about we head down together?” As Mican spoke, the teenager’s face lit up considerably.

“Yeah!”

It was morning, so there were no sounds of festivities or drunkards in the tavern. As the inn was completely separate from the tavern, it was a particularly quiet morning. Not being able to tell the exact time was one of the many inconveniences that Mican truly felt through his time in this world.

Thudding down the wooden stairs, Duarte led Mican by the hand out of the inn, into the open square.

The city was once again emptied, hired workers to-and-fro, cleaning up the aftermath of the party. Wiping up vomit, spilled booze, and random bits of food. Seeing them hard at work, Mican nodded to himself in approval. While he didn’t know how it would be like for the more powerful individuals, the normal people needed such careful measures on sanitation, to prevent the spread of diseases or pests like rats.

The sanitation measures in this world were miles ahead of the similar era in his previous world, though it likely applied especially for Gaspereau, city of the wealthy.

Weaving through the tents and stands, Duarte and Mican crossed over to the large building opposite the inn, the district’s central tavern. As the two neared the tavern, the noises of people interacting became more apparent.

Opening the door, the two were greeted to a large room full of activity. Daily workers and multiple caravan members could be seen sitting at the various tables, eating their breakfast in relative peace.

“Over there.” Surveying the room, Mican pointed at one of the long wooden tables in the corner.

Seated at the table were two individuals, a father-daughter pair. The two sat at the table glumly, a penitent expression on the father’s face, and a frown on the daughter's as she shared his apparent depressed mood. The two were Harold and Sarah, sitting quietly at the empty table.

A guilty expression appeared on Duarte’s face as he looked at the two, his eyes growing slightly misty. It seemed as if he knew that the pair would have been here, as the first thing he did as soon as Mican was awake was lead him straight towards the tavern.

“Let’s go sit.” Looking down to the side, Mican gave the boy an encouraging look.

“Alright.” Hesitantly, Duarte followed him as he led them through the inn.

It was evident to Mican that Duarte was quite nervous about confronting his father after the argument they had the last night.

It seemed as if he didn’t fight with his father very often, or at least not in such a manner. The boy was so nervous that he stayed in the inn, waiting for Mican to wake up to head down with him.

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It wasn’t a bad thing though, in Mican’s eyes. It showed him that Duarte now saw him as someone trustworthy, or dependable.

“Duarte!” As the two approached the table, Harold called out to them, his face lighting up upon seeing the teenager.

“Dad.” Hearing the middle-aged man’s excited tone, the depression was wiped from the teenager’s face, and his back straightened.

As the two reached the table, Duarte didn’t take a seat, instead standing to the side to look straight into his father’s eyes.

“Duarte, I’m so-”

“Wait, dad. Before you say anything, please allow me to apologize. I shouldn’t have shouted yesterday, and I didn’t mean to.” Before Harold could finish his sentence, the black-haired youth quickly spilled his words, having held them in for the entire morning.

“…Duarte, there’s no need to apologize about this, not to me of all people. We are father and son, aren’t we?” The blacksmith reached his hand up, ruffling his son’s hair. “It’s me that should be apologizing to you.”

“Dad?”

“I had some time to myself to reflect yesterday, and I had realized that I was indeed being too hasty.” Turning his head towards the tavern’s window, Harold’s face showed regret. “I was too adamant on pushing you to make a decision. While I want you to be a smith, in the end, I also want to respect your decision, no matter what it may be. All I ask is that you wait until you are older to make the decision to be an adventurer or not. There is time, my son.”

“I know, dad… I know how stressed you have been in not letting my mother’s will die. I will do as you say.” Giving his father a rapid nod, the young teenager reached his arms out towards the blacksmith.

Standing up from his seat, Harold grasped Duarte into his arms, hugging him tightly. As the two hugged, several tears slid down the youth’s face, wetting the blacksmith’s shirt. He was greatly relieved to have made up with his family.

As the two separated, Duarte quickly took his seat. Smiling in joy, the teenager began playing with his sister, who had begun smiling following her father and older brother.

Harold’s method of parenting shocked Mican. While he wouldn’t say that it was good, it was an extreme eye opener for him. In such a bloody era, having such a man as his father was the blessing of Duarte’s past lifetime. The young man hadn’t believed that such an open-minded individual could even exist in such an old-fashioned medieval age.

“Now that you’ve arrived, we can finally order some food.” Smiling, Harold straightened his back.

Walking over to an adjacent table, the middle-aged man pulled out one of its unused chairs, dragging it over to their table.

“Mican, please have a seat and have breakfast with us.” Seating himself back down, Harold turned to Mican in a solemn manner, his eyes full of gratitude.

Turning his head, he saw Duarte watching him expectantly. Harold wanted to repay the favour to him, so he found it acceptable to have a seat. It would be rude not to.

“Thank you, Mican. Thank you for giving my son a place to stay for the night.” Harold thanked Mican quite seriously, his head slightly bowing towards the latter.

“It’s perfectly fine, Harold. You provide me travel in your wagon, so it’s only to be expected really.”

“That’s only to be expected though, as the man Boss Melinda fancies. I’ll be honest with you Mican. Over the entire decade I’ve known her, you’re the first person I’ve ever seen her take such an interest in. I doubt anybody in the caravan would refuse to take you in, given the Boss’s attitude.”

“He won’t mind, father. Mican is a good guy.” As he played with his little sister, the young teenager spoke out absentmindedly.

“Huh? Really?” While shocked, perhaps he realized what he said could be taken as quite rude, so the blacksmith quickly backtracked. “I apologize, it’s just that Duarte rarely ever says that about people.”

The blacksmith gave Mican an appraising look, astonished. Even Sarah gave Mican another once-over, her eyes slightly widened.

Time quickly passed by after that, with Harold ordering a full meat pie to repay Mican. The young man found the food even more tasty in Gaspereau than Spurrose. The meal was succulent, hot, and fresh, full of the taste of umami.

“Harold, when are we set to go next?” Putting down the wooden spoon in his hands, Mican wiped his mouth with a handkerchief as he spoke.

“Ah, I had been meaning to talk to you about this, but it had slipped my mind. The caravan is to set off tomorrow morning. We’ll be leaving early, so it would be wise to get plenty of rest.”

“Hm. Where are we headed?”

Upon hearing the simple question, Harold paused in chewing for a moment before a slight frown appeared on his face.

“We’re headed to the mountain city of Granberia. It’ll take us about a week to reach the mountain city, so we’ll be stocking up on supplies now while we still can.”

“Is that unease I sense in your expression?”

“Hmm. Well, our family has had some poor experiences being through the city in the past, as merchants, but worry not. With Boss Melinda here, I sincerely doubt anything will happen.”

“Are you able to tell me about the city?”

“I can yes, but it will take some time. How about we save it for the trail? The festival will be up and running again soon.”

“That’s fine.” Mican nodded, understanding that the man needed to head to work soon.

Looking back on the entire event, Mican was satisfied with his course of action. Although Duarte’s trust could potentially backfire on him, he had successfully gained the goodwill of the Ashleye family through his actions.

Picking his utensil back up, the young man continued to enjoy his meal.