They walked through the quiet streets of Elandra, the light from the hanging lanterns painting golden lines across the cobblestones. Inigo glanced at Elise, who walked beside him with her coat gently swaying with each step.
As they neared a corner, Elise turned to him. "By the way, Inigo… do you have a place to stay?"
He blinked. "Ah. Good question."
She raised an eyebrow, her expression somewhere between amused and incredulous. "You mean to tell me you've been slaying goblins, getting paid, and you still haven't found lodging?"
"I was a little busy today," he said with a sheepish grin. "The whole registering as an adventurer and killing a small army kind of took priority. Not to mention, I just got here in this city."
Elise exhaled through her nose, the faintest smile forming on her lips. "Come on. I'll take you to a decent inn nearby."
"Appreciate it."
They turned down a quieter street, the buildings growing more residential. The marketplace noise had faded, leaving only the hum of far-off music and the occasional bark of a dog echoing through alleyways.
After a few minutes of walking, they reached a three-story timbered building tucked between a bakery and a cobbler's workshop. A hanging sign carved with a wheat sheaf and a sleeping sheep swung lightly above the entrance.
"This is the Amber Hearth," Elise said, gesturing toward it. "It's not the fanciest, but it's clean, quiet, and the innkeeper is reliable. They've got private rooms with baths, and you won't have to sell a kidney to afford a night."
"I like all of that," Inigo said.
They stepped inside. The main lounge was warmly lit, with soft yellow lanterns and sturdy wooden furniture. A few travelers sat around a central hearth where a fire crackled, and the scent of lavender oil wafted faintly from somewhere in the room.
Elise walked him up to the front desk and exchanged a few words with the innkeeper—a middle-aged woman with thick glasses and a motherly vibe.
After handing over ten silver coins for a three-night stay, Inigo received a heavy brass key engraved with the number 7.
"There," Elise said, satisfied. "Now you've got a roof over your head."
Inigo turned to her. "Now let me return the favor. Let me walk you home."
She hesitated. "You don't have to. I'd just be bothering you."
He smirked. "You already fed me history, walked me to an inn, and made sure I didn't sleep on the street. I insist."
Her eyes narrowed, but not with annoyance—more like faint exasperation at someone stubbornly polite. "…Fine. But I'm not making it a habit."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
They headed off again, taking a slower pace this time. The streets were nearly empty now, save for a few patrolling guards and a couple of late-night drunks stumbling out of a tavern.
Eventually, they arrived at a modest single-story house nestled along a quiet lane with trimmed hedges and a short wooden fence. Warm light glowed from inside the windows, and flowerpots lined the ledge.
Inigo whistled low. "This is nice. Cozy. Feels like something out of a picture book."
Elise looked at it, then sighed. "Thirty years left to pay it off."
He turned to her, confused. "Wait, you… you financed this?"
"Of course," she said. "Not everyone has the gold to buy property outright. The Crown Housing Bank offers interest-based financing options for approved citizens."
Inigo just stared for a second. "Hold on—there's financing here?"
"Yes?" she replied, giving him a sideways look. "How else do you expect people to afford homes?"
Inigo looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. "I—uh. It's just… not what I expected from a medieval setting."
Elise tilted her head, clearly confused. "Medieval setting?"
"Never mind," he said quickly. "Just something I read once."
He mentally kicked himself. Telling people you're from another world is one of the dumbest things a reincarnated protagonist could do. That's anime survival 101. Rule number one—blend in. Don't blow your cover.
Elise, thankfully, didn't press the issue. She just gave him a strange look, then turned toward her door.
"Well," she said. "Thanks for walking me home."
"Thanks for everything," he said genuinely.
She nodded. "Good night, Inigo."
"Night."
She stepped inside and gently closed the door behind her. The sound of the latch sliding into place echoed softly.
Inigo stood there for a moment, hands in his coat pockets, staring at the closed door.
"Thirty years of payments," he murmured. "And I thought student loans were bad."
He chuckled to himself, then turned and made his way back to the inn.
Room 7 was on the second floor of the Amber Hearth. The hallway was quiet and smelled of old cedarwood. He unlocked the door and stepped into a space that was, surprisingly, more than he expected.
The room was simple but functional. A wide bed with a thick feather mattress and clean linen sheets sat in one corner. A small wooden table and chair were placed near the window. A washbasin, mirror, and towel were neatly arranged by the far wall. And, to his relief, a door to the right opened into a stone-walled bathing room with a spout-fed shower, copper pipes, and a heated bucket system.
He let out a long sigh and pulled off his clothes.
Inigo stepped into the bath chamber and took a long, scalding-hot shower. The blood, dirt, and tension of the day washed away down the drain, replaced by the soothing burn of clean water. When he finally stepped out, steam trailing from his shoulders, he felt human again.
He dried off, pulled on a plain cotton shirt and trousers provided by the inn, and collapsed onto the bed with a satisfied grunt.
The mattress was soft. The pillow even softer.
He laid there for a moment, staring at the wooden ceiling beams.
His mind drifted to Elise's smile. To the flicker of candlelight in the restaurant. To the quiet way she carried herself. Strong, but never cold.
Another world, he thought.
Another life.
He wasn't just a high school student anymore.
He was an adventurer.
And tomorrow?
Tomorrow, he'd start doing what adventurers do for a living.