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After the tournament in Rhotae, we decided to rest for the remainder of the day. The fighting had left us sore and bruised, but our spirits were high after the victory. I spent the evening in quiet reflection, thinking over the events of the past few days—how far we had come and how much farther we still had to go. By the next morning, we were ready to depart for Lageta, a city I had only heard about in passing.

Silvana, always eager to share her knowledge of the Empire, spoke of Lageta’s rich culture as we traveled. “It’s one of the jewels of the Western Empire,” she explained as we walked side by side. “Known for its architecture, its art, and its wealth. The Dionicos Clan has ruled over it for generations. The current leader, Crotor, is a renowned warrior fighting on the front lines for Garios. His son and daughter are with him, fighting both the Battanians and the Southern Empire. They’re all respected as fierce defenders of the Empire.”

She paused for a moment, her eyes scanning the horizon. “But with all of them away at war, the city is left in the hands of Lysica, Crotor’s wife. She’s been governing in their absence, though I’ve heard rumors that she’s fallen ill recently.”

I nodded, taking it all in. "So who’s running the city right now?"

“A local noble, from what I’ve heard,” Silvana replied. “Someone close to the Dionicos family, though I don’t know much about him. He’s probably handling things until Crotor or his children return.”

By the time we arrived in Lageta that evening, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the city’s walls. From a distance, it was easy to see why Lageta had earned such a reputation. Its towers and buildings were built with intricate designs, the stonework a testament to the skill of the craftsmen who had built it. The city had a unique charm, with its blend of imperial architecture and local artistry.

As we approached the gates, I couldn’t help but admire the view. The streets were lively with merchants and townsfolk, even at this late hour. It was clear that, despite the ongoing war, Lageta remained a thriving hub of activity. But there was a sense of tension in the air as well, a subtle reminder that the war was never far from anyone’s mind.

After talking with the city guards and presenting our papers, we were informed of some troubling news. Lysica, Crotor’s wife, was indeed sick, and in her place, a local noble had taken over the day-to-day governance of the city. Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue, but the noble refused to meet with us. Despite our official business on behalf of Nadea, we were denied entry into the palace. The guards had relayed the message, but the noble, for reasons unknown to us, had turned us away.

I could feel the frustration simmering beneath my calm exterior as we made our way back from the palace gates. Mannes was equally displeased, his jaw clenched in silent anger. It wasn’t just the inconvenience of being denied a meeting—it was the blatant disrespect. We were here on official orders, and to be turned away as common mercenaries rubbed us the wrong way.

“We don’t have time to waste here,” Mannes muttered, his voice low.

Cassius, ever the practical one, simply shrugged. “If he doesn’t want to meet, then we’ll make do. There’s no point in forcing it.”

With no other choice, we booked an inn in the city, paying for food and lodging out of our own pockets. It wasn’t ideal, but at least the inn was comfortable enough, and the food, though simple, was hearty. Once we had settled in, most of the group went off to their rooms, exhausted from the journey.

But I couldn’t rest just yet.

After everything was settled, I decided to spend some time exploring the city. The frustration from earlier was still gnawing at me, and I figured that checking out the markets and wares of Lageta might offer a distraction. I had heard much about the craftsmanship of this place, and I was curious to see what the city had to offer.

I wandered through the streets, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling market district. The stalls were filled with a variety of goods, from finely woven fabrics to beautifully crafted weapons and armor. The air was filled with roasted meats and freshly baked bread. It was a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere we had felt outside the palace.

As I passed by a stall overflowing with books, paintings, jewelry, and even weapons, one merchant in particular caught my eye. His stand was more like an “all-you-can-get” store, cluttered with a wide assortment of goods. The merchant himself was a thin, wiry man with a sharp smile and quick eyes, constantly darting around as if he was mentally calculating every passerby’s potential.

“Ah, a traveler!” he called out, his voice smooth and enticing. “Come, take a look at my wares. I’ve gathered treasures from all over Calradia. You won’t find better deals anywhere else!”

At the counter stood a girl, her short hair framing a face marked by an expression of sadness and confusion. She wore an expensive but soiled dress, her fingers delicately picking through the jewelry. Despite the wealth her attire suggested, her eyes betrayed a sense of uncertainty.

Among the many items, my gaze fell on a book titled *An Army Marches on its Stomach*. Curious, I picked it up and began leafing through its pages. The girl, who had moments before been focused on the jewelry, turned her attention to me.

“So, you’re a reader?” she asked, her voice soft yet intrigued. “With a physique like yours, I would’ve expected you to be holding a sword, not a book.”

I chuckled and replied, “You can’t judge a book by its cover.”

She laughed lightly, nodding in agreement. “Indeed.”

Her attention shifted back to the jewelry, and I noticed her fingers hovering indecisively over a variety of trinkets. “What are you looking for?” I asked, motioning to the collection before us. “If I may suggest, that emerald bracelet would suit you well. It would bring out your natural beauty.”

She sighed, glancing down at the bracelet I had pointed out. Without hesitation, or even bothering to haggle, she purchased it—paying a hefty sum of 400 gold coins. The amount startled me; it was not a small fortune by my standards.

Afterward, she turned her gaze to me once more. “What’s your name?” she asked. “And what do you do?”

“I’m Augustus,” I replied. “A mercenary by trade.”

She offered no name in return, just a subtle nod. Without another word, she walked toward a neighboring stall, disappearing into the crowd. I stood there for a moment, contemplating the brief exchange, before I, too, moved on to continue exploring the city.

Lageta was indeed rich in culture, and despite its current troubles, I could see why it had earned its reputation as one of the Empire’s finest cities.

As I made my way back to the inn, the streets were starting to empty, the lively market slowly winding down. The weight of the journey ahead still lingered in my mind, but for now, I allowed myself a brief moment of peace, knowing that tomorrow would bring new challenges.