100\% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full? Chapter 838 - 848 - City

The wagon was ready shortly after sunrise.

Lucien arrived at the edge of the village carrying little more than food, water, a change of clothes, and the small amount of money Cienna insisted he take.

He had tried refusing the money.

Cienna had ignored him.

Luke stood beside her near the road.

His scar had healed enough that he moved normally again, although Cienna had prevented him from joining the trip by reminding him that recovering quickly was not the same as being fully recovered.

Lucien suspected Luke had considered sneaking onto the wagon.

Cienna probably suspected the same thing.

That explained why she had remained beside him until departure.

"You will be careful," she told Lucien.

"I will."

"You will not run toward anything dangerous."

Lucien hesitated.

Cienna narrowed her eyes.

"I will attempt not to."

"Lucien."

"I will be careful."

Luke reached over and patted his shoulder.

"Bring back something interesting."

Cienna turned toward him.

Luke cleared his throat.

"Bring back something safe and interesting."

Lucien smiled.

Around them, several villagers had come to see the group off.

The journey was not especially unusual for Mirelle, Tavian or Auren, but Lucien’s presence had apparently made it worth watching.

Someone reminded him to look at the city walls.

Another told him not to trust merchants who smiled too much.

The butcher asked him to see what people thought of the meat.

Tavian was already sitting in the wagon and looking increasingly impatient.

"We are traveling to a city, not crossing the end of the world."

Auren glanced back from the driver’s seat.

"Give them another hour and they may hold a farewell feast."

Lucien climbed into the wagon before that became a possibility.

Mirelle sat opposite him beside the preserved meat.

Tavian occupied the other side with several empty crates meant for whatever materials he intended to purchase.

Auren clicked his tongue softly.

The horse moved.

Lucien watched the village recede behind them.

The new northern supports were visible even from the road.

For some reason, seeing them made leaving easier.

The first portion of the journey followed a familiar path.

Lucien had walked some of it before, although never this far.

The road passed between fields before gradually narrowing into a wooded route where the trees grew close enough to cast most of the morning in shade.

Auren handled the horse with an ease Lucien immediately noticed.

He rarely needed the reins.

A small sound from his mouth or a shift of his hands seemed enough to tell the animal what he wanted.

When the horse slowed, Auren did not urge it forward immediately.

He watched its breathing.

A short while later, he stopped beside a shallow stream.

"The horse is tired already?" Lucien asked.

"No."

Auren climbed down.

"It will be tired later if I wait until it starts looking tired."

Lucien watched him check the animal’s hooves before allowing it to drink.

That made sense.

Auren knew roads in the same way Tavian knew metal and Mirelle knew value.

Not merely where they went, but how they behaved.

Which stretches exhausted horses.

Where wheels sank after rain.

Where bandits liked to wait.

Which streams remained usable late into the dry season.

After the short rest, Auren did not return to the main road.

Instead, he turned the wagon onto a narrower trail that seemed to disappear between two wooded slopes.

Lucien looked ahead.

"That is not a road."

"It is."

"There are roots in the middle of it."

"That does not stop it from being a road."

Tavian leaned back against a crate.

"Do not question him."

Lucien looked toward Mirelle.

She nodded.

"Do not question him."

That only made Lucien more suspicious.

The path climbed gradually before curving around the side of a hill.

Auren navigated it without hesitation.

At several points, Lucien was certain they were moving farther away from the city.

Then the trees opened, revealing a broad valley below.

Far in the distance, Lucien could see the main road winding through it.

Their path cut directly toward the opposite side.

Lucien understood.

"A shortcut."

Auren looked pleased.

"The normal road follows the river until the bridge. This crosses above the bend."

"Why does everyone use the longer road?"

"Because they enjoy having wheels."

Lucien looked down.

The path beneath them was uneven enough to justify the answer.

Auren continued.

"Caravans need the main road. Heavy wagons too. This one is light enough."

Mirelle added, "Bandits also prefer the main road."

Lucien turned toward her.

"How common are they?"

"Common enough that merchants remember which roads they use."

Auren glanced back.

"They like predictable travelers."

That explained several of the turns.

Auren was not merely shortening the journey.

He was avoiding places where travelers were easiest to watch and intercept.

Lucien approved.

The wagon struck a deep rut.

His approval weakened.

He shifted his weight for what felt like the twentieth time.

There were many things about advanced civilization he had taken for granted.

Suspension was apparently one of them.

Hours on a wooden wagon taught that lesson very effectively.

By late morning, Lucien had begun considering improvements.

Better seat padding was obvious.

Improved springs would be more difficult with the metalworking available here, but not impossible in simpler forms.

Wheel construction could also be refined.

Axle friction was another problem.

Lucien stopped himself before he redesigned the entire wagon in his head.

He was supposed to be observing the world.

Not rebuilding every inconvenient object he encountered.

Still, his backside strongly supported innovation.

Tavian noticed him shifting again.

"You look miserable."

"I am studying the wagon."

"With your backside?"

"It has provided valuable information."

Mirelle laughed.

Lucien ignored her.

The discomfort did remind him of something more important.

Money.

He had almost none.

That had not mattered much inside the village.

Food came from the household.

Most work was shared.

He had no rent, no commercial expenses, and very few personal needs.

That would change if he began traveling.

Long journeys required food, lodging, animals, repairs, equipment, information, and eventually perhaps access to places where nobody cared how clever he was unless he could pay.

Lucien looked toward the preserved meat behind Mirelle.

It might sell well.

It would not make him wealthy.

Nor should it.

This was one improved village product, not some miraculous commodity capable of transforming the economy overnight.

If Lucien intended to travel farther in search of the Origin Core and investigate the strange changes spreading through the kingdom, he would eventually need a reliable source of funds.

He had knowledge.

More knowledge than almost anyone alive in this era.

The challenge would be using enough of it to support himself without introducing something so disruptive that he accidentally changed entire industries.

Lucien sighed.

Even earning money had become a temporal problem.

Auren called from the front.

"You sigh a lot."

"I have many problems."

"You are going to the city. Buy fewer problems."

Lucien looked at the back of his head.

"Is that how cities work?"

"No."

Auren sounded completely serious.

Lucien decided he liked traveling with him.

They stopped once more before noon.

After that, the route descended from the hills and returned to a wider road.

Lucien began noticing more travelers.

Farmers drove carts loaded with produce.

A pair of men passed them carrying bundles of leather.

Farther ahead, several mounted guards accompanied a merchant wagon.

The land itself became more heavily worked.

Fields stretched farther from settlements, and small workshops appeared beside the road.

Then Lucien saw the city.

It rose beyond the next stretch of farmland behind a stone wall taller than anything surrounding the village.

The buildings visible beyond it climbed gradually toward the center, where several larger structures stood above the rooftops.

Lucien stared.

They had arrived in half a day.

The tax collector’s route and the villagers’ descriptions had given Lucien some idea of the distance.

Using the common road, the journey should have required most of the day.

Auren had nearly cut it in half.

Lucien looked toward him with genuine appreciation.

"That was impressive."

Tavian smirked.

Mirelle did the same.

Lucien immediately regretted speaking.

"What?"

Mirelle leaned back.

"The country boy is impressed by a road."

Lucien stared at her.

"I am from the same village as you."

"You have never been here."

"That does not make me a country boy."

Tavian looked toward the approaching walls.

"It does today."

Lucien considered explaining that he had once governed territories larger than anything visible on the horizon.

He decided that would create more problems than it solved.

So he endured the insult.

The entrance road became crowded as they approached the gate.

Guards inspected goods and collected entry fees from larger merchant loads.

Lucien expected Mirelle to prepare for a long explanation.

Instead, one of the guards recognized her.

"Back again?"

Mirelle smiled.

"I bring money into your city. You should sound happier."

The guard laughed.

His inspection of their wagon was still proper, but noticeably efficient.

He checked the sealed meat, asked where it came from, and waved them through after Mirelle answered.

Lucien looked at her once they entered.

"You have a reputation."

Mirelle’s posture became slightly straighter.

"I told you I sell things here."

She looked rather pleased with herself.

Lucien smiled.

Auren knew roads well enough to cut journeys in half.

Mirelle could walk into a city and already know people at its gates.

Tavian understood materials and construction better than almost anyone in the village.

Lucien found himself strangely pleased.

They were competent.

Even here.

Long before the strange powers and identities he knew from the future, the same qualities were already present.

The wagon continued deeper into the city.

Lucien turned his attention outward.

It had been a long time since something this mundane felt unfamiliar.

The city was large by the standards of this era.

It did not compare with the enormous settlements of Lucien’s own time, but thousands of people clearly lived behind these walls.

The main streets were wide enough for two wagons to pass without forcing pedestrians into the buildings.

Drainage channels ran along the sides.

Shops occupied the lower floors of many structures while families seemed to live above them.

Wood dominated most construction, although wealthier buildings used more stone around their foundations and entrances.

Nothing was particularly advanced.

What surprised Lucien was how organized it felt.

Traffic moved reasonably well.

Market areas were separated enough that livestock did not block every road.

Guards appeared often enough to discourage open theft without standing on every corner.

Lucien had unconsciously expected something rougher.

He reminded himself again that lack of mana did not mean lack of civilization.

People had been building societies long before magic made life easier.

The market district was even busier.

Voices overlapped from every direction.

Farmers called attention to fresh produce.

Hunters displayed hides and dried meat.

Blacksmiths and tool sellers occupied several louder sections farther down the road.

Lucien saw travelers, craftsmen, laborers, minor merchants, guards, and people whose professions he could not identify at a glance.

Auren guided the wagon toward a designated loading area near the edge of the market.

Mirelle pointed toward an open space.

"There."

Auren brought the horse to a smooth stop.

Lucien climbed down.

The moment his boots touched the ground, he stretched.

His lower back protested.

His legs were worse.

He stared at the wagon.

"That needs improvement."

Tavian climbed down behind him.

"It brought us here."

"Painfully."

"That sounds like a passenger problem."

Lucien ignored him.

He had already begun mentally consulting the System about practical ways to improve ride comfort using materials available in this era.

There were several possibilities.

It was then that Lucien heard it.

Every thought stopped.

The market remained loud.

Merchants shouted. Wheels rolled over stone. Animals shifted in harnesses. People argued over prices several stalls away.

Yet beneath all of it came something else.

That distant, impossible sound.

Lucien froze.

It was clearer than it had been in the village.

The strange resonance passed through him, touching the fractured portions of the young Lucien’s spirit with the same impossible familiarity as before.

Lucien forgot the wagon. He forgot the market. He forgot the conversation behind him.

His eyes moved slowly across the street.

Where?

For once, the sound did not vanish immediately.

Lucien focused on it.

He tried separating it from the ordinary noise around him, following the faint direction hidden inside the sensation.

Lucien took half a step without realizing it.

Then someone collided with his shoulder.

The contact broke his concentration.

Lucien staggered slightly and immediately turned.

Irritation rose before he could stop it.

He had finally heard the sound again.

For the first time, he had been close to understanding where it was coming from.

Then some stranger walked directly into him.

"Watch where you’re..."

The words died.

Lucien stared at the man standing in front of him.

The stranger looked roughly around his age, perhaps slightly older.

His clothes were ordinary enough for the market, practical and worn from use. Nothing about him should have stood out among hundreds of people moving through the district.

His face did.

Lucien knew that face.

His irritation vanished so completely that the stranger seemed confused by the sudden change in his expression.

For several heartbeats, Lucien could only stare.

Because the man who had just bumped into him looked exactly like...

Seran.