After what felt like an eternity of walking, Velren finally stood before the towering gates of Elyndra once more.
But something about them felt… off.
It wasn't as if the gates had changed. The massive, reinforced archway stood just as imposing as before, along with its intricate engravings that were glistening under the midday sun. The guards stationed at the entrance wore the same silver-plated armor with their unreadable expressions. The city itself still buzzed with life, and the air was filled with the chatter of merchants and travelers.
And yet, the feeling was different.
Velren frowned slightly, sweeping his gaze across the streets beyond the entrance. The buildings here were taller, more lavishly built, and the roads seemed busier—more structured, in a way. This part of the city somehow felt... refined.
"Good eyes," Gramps' voice pulled him from his thoughts.
Velren turned, his questioning gaze was met with a knowing smirk from the old man.
"When you first came here, we entered from the Western Gate—the Artisan District. That area's mainly filled with blacksmiths, tailors, alchemists, and the like. It's where most of the kingdom's craftsmen operate, providing everything from enchanted weapons to high-quality garments."
Gramps gestured around them.
"But this? This is the Southern Gate—also known as the Commercial District. The lifeblood of Elyndra's economy. Merchants from across the continent gather here, selling rare goods, artifacts, and exotic wares. If you ever need something, be it potions, books, or even—gods forbid—fashionable clothes, this is where you'll find it."
Velren took another glance around. Now that he thought about it, the people here did look different. Wealthier. More put-together. Nobles, traders, and scholars walked the streets, some engaged in quiet discussions while others inspected goods displayed in elegant storefronts.
"What about the North and East?" he asked.
"The Northern District is the Noble Quarter. Reserved for the aristocrats, high-ranking officials, and old-money families. It's got the most extravagant estates, private manors, and exclusive institutions. Unless you have business there, it's best to steer clear—those kinds of people don't take kindly to outsiders like you wandering around."
Velren resisted the urge to scoff. Just imagining a district full of self-important nobles made him feel exhausted.
"And the Eastern District?"
Gramps rubbed his chin.
"That would be the Military and Administrative Sector. The Royal Guard Barracks, city garrison, judicial courts, and even the Mage Tower are located there. It's where most of the kingdom's defense forces operate, and also where they handle governance matters."
Velren took a moment to let it all sink in. Elyndra wasn't just big—it was organized. Every part of the city had a role, working together like gears in a massive machine.
It made sense, then, when Gramps answered his final question without hesitation.
"And where's the academy?" Velren asked.
Gramps grinned.
"At the heart of the kingdom, of course."
***
The streets of the Commercial District stretched endlessly before them, bustling with merchants, travelers, and common folk alike.
Velren followed Gramps through the crowded roads, dodging between people carrying crates and carts loaded with goods. Stalls lined both sides of the streets, displaying everything from embroidered cloaks to finely crafted daggers. The sound of bartering filled the air as shopkeepers loudly advertised their wares, each one vying for attention.
As they walked, Gramps glanced at him.
"Here's where we'll be getting all the necessities you'll need for dorm life," the old man said.
"You might've done well keeping yourself clean in the wild, but that kind of lifestyle won't fit in a place like this. From now on, you'll need to get used to civilization."
Velren raised an eyebrow.
"That sounds easy enough."
After all, wasn't that what he had already gone through in his previous life?
He didn't remember everything clearly, but he remembered just enough. The structure, the order, the way society functioned—it wasn't unfamiliar. He had lived it before, even if the memories were hazy.
"Well, for your sake, I hope you're right."
Gramps muttered. Then, without warning, he tossed something at Velren.
"Here."
Velren barely managed to catch it, the weight of the object throwing him off balance. He stumbled slightly, fumbling his fingers around the rough leather pouch as he steadied himself.
He looked down at it, then back at Gramps in confusion.
"What—?"
"Go on, open it," the old man gestured.
Velren loosened the drawstrings and peered inside—only for his breath to hitch.
Gold and silver coins. A lot of it.
His hands stiffened around the pouch as he stared at the glimmering coins. For someone who still didn't quite grasp this world's monetary system, even he could tell that this amount wasn't small.
This could last him for… a long time. Maybe even too long.
"What— what's all this?" Velren asked with a wary voice.
Gramps folded his arms.
"That, kid, is what we call credits. Comes in the shape of coins. Used for buying things, paying for services, and making sure you don't starve on the streets."
Velren's eye twitched.
Of course he knew that much! And That's not what he was asking about either!
"Anyway, don't go getting any funny ideas—your allowance will be given to you monthly. So don't be wasteful with it."
Velren gulped nervously.
What if he spent too much? What if he miscalculated? What if he ended up broke halfway through the month?
His grip on the pouch tightened.
"Al- alright…" he stuttered.
Gramps raised an eyebrow, but instead of commenting, he simply patted Velren's shoulder.
Velren wasn't sure if that was supposed to be reassuring or a silent warning.