WINTER'S SWEET EMBRACE

"HAHAHA! And then I said, why don’t you suck my d–!"

"Hey! Check it."

The moment Vincent’s boots hit the main floor, the lively chatter, clinking of ale mugs, and background laughter stopped. Dozens of pairs of eyes turned in unison, locking onto him.

’Arghhh... Really people. Please don’t mind me.’

An unbearable silence stretched across the room. Every patron watched his every move as he awkwardly shuffled down the central aisle toward the front desk.

"Look at him," a rough voice scoffed near the entrance.

A boisterous group of low-tier adventurers sat around a circular table, one of them taking a heavy swig of ale. "Weird outsider folk coming in here and harassing the innkeeper like it’s nothing..."

Vincent ignored the murmurs and suppressed his nervous sweat as he finally reached the counter. He bent at the waist and executed a dramatic bow.

"Sir, I am so, so sorry about earlier. I promise you I wasn’t trying to do anything weird. I come from a really, really distant land where I’ve never encountered wolfkin like you before.

"Back where I’m from, people just admire cool fur or pet dogs without any kind of romantic connotations whatsoever. I literally had zero idea what I was insinuating with that request."

For about three long seconds, the innkeeper stared down at him with an unblinking, stoic expression.

Then, his ears twitched.

A deep rumble vibrated in his chest before he threw his head back and let out a booming laugh that broke the awkward silence.

"HAAAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"""BWAHAHAHAHA!!!""""

The entire tavern erupted into wild laughter along with him.

"You heard that?! Poor kid said he really didn’t know!"

"Did you see his face?! He probably thought he was gonna get eaten alive!"

The wolfkin innkeeper wiped a tear from his eye, leaning his massive forearms against the counter with a broad, toothy grin. "Ah, good gods, kid! You’re serious, aren’t you?"

"I swear on my life, I’m serious. I really didn’t know."

"Well, allow me to educate you, out-of-towner. Among wolfkin culture, asking to touch someone’s fur is considered intimate courtship reserved strictly for life partners or marriage proposals.

"Our coat is our pride – it takes years of grooming and maintenance to keep it this sleek. You don’t just go around asking another man to pet it unless you’re trying to commit to something."

"Haha... Yeah. My friend told me about it."

"Good. Now, while I don’t swing that way, I can certainly appreciate the flattery. Though... I have to admit, I’m a little disappointed that the very first person that wanted to pet my fur was not only a complete misunderstanding, but also a guy. What a letdown, I tell ya."

More roaring laughter swept through the bar. Vincent rubbed the back of his neck as his face burned slightly. "Again, my bad, man. I really am sorry."

"Water under the bridge, kid," the innkeeper nodded heartily while gathering a few empty wooden tankards. "Sit tight. I gotta go check on the cellar barrels in the back."

As the innkeeper disappeared into the back room, the tavern returned to its warm, lively chatter.

’Haaa... Glad that’s all cleared.’

A moment later, the waitress approached the bar. Her face was flushed bright red with embarrassment. She set a wooden mug filled with a sweet, sparkling blue beverage down in front of him.

"Umm... here. I’m... really sorry about glaring at you earlier. The truth is.. umm... I like the... inkeep... umm..."

"You’re gonna have to speak up. I can’t hear you."

"I-I said! I like the–!"

"Easy there! That’s a bit too much. I’m just messing with you, I heard you the first time."

"Argh... seriously? Don’t play with me like that."

"Haha. Sorry. "Thanks for the drink, but... I don’t actually have any local coin on me to pay for this. I’m new around here."

"That’s ok. It’s on the house from me personally! Consider it a welcome to the Imperial City." With a happy nod, she turned and dashed back toward the kitchen to continue working.

’Free drink? Nice.’

"Mind if we join you, friend?"

Vincent turned his head to see two men sliding onto the stools right next to him. One was a broad-shouldered human man with a mercenary crest on his leather armor, and the other was another wolfkin in the same attire.

"Name’s Blake," the human mercenary greeted. "And this is Stark. We couldn’t help but overhear. Where in the world are you from, kid? To not know basic wolfkin etiquette, you must’ve grown up under a rock."

"Oh, you know... just a very small, isolated village far to the south. We didn’t get out much. Not that any of that matters. Honestly, I’m way more interested in learning how things work around here. Don’t wanna make any more silly mistakes, y’know?"

"Ha! That’s understandable," Stark chuckled softly, sipping his booze. "You’re in the heart of Pristina, my friend. United Haven."

"Right’s right." Blake nodded. "The world is divided into five main continents, kid. You’ve got the human territories of Solara, the mountain realms of the Dwarves, Eudoxia, the wild beastkin lands of Primen, and the dark realm of Ebonspire – where humans and demon-bloods coexist under the royal line. And then... there’s where we are right now. United Haven."

"United Haven is unique," Stark added. "Founded by the late Hero, it’s smaller than the other four continents, but it serves as a neutral haven where all races come together. Because of that, it boasts the absolute strongest military infrastructure in the world. And its heart is the Imperial Academy."

"Holy... Dad– The hero founded a whole ass nation? That’s crazy... What about this ’Academy’?"

"It’s the supreme institution of learning and power," Blake explained. "Royals, prodigies, and the gifted from all five continents come here to train, learn, and eventually become big shots in the future. Though... speaking of royals, things at the Academy have been pretty damn tense lately."

"Yeah... I think I know what you’re talking about."

"Mmhm. Princess Maelle Ebony of Ebonspire," Stark lowered his voice slightly. "She was engaged to Lord Quinton out of a major political alliance, right? But out of nowhere, the prince broke the engagement publicly soon after the summoning ritual. Gossip says it’s because she couldn’t summon a worthy Familiar."

"Rumors are wild," Blake sighed, shaking his head. "You know how she’s been missing these last few days? Some people even claimed she fled into the forest to end her life. Tragic stuff, really."

Vincent kept a straight face throughout it all, taking a long finish of his drink while listening carefully.

Setting his empty mug down, he wiped his mouth and stood up from the stool.

"Thanks for the company and the lesson, guys. I think I’m gonna go walk around and explore the city for a bit."

"Stay safe out there, kid! No more asking random people for their hand in marriage, you hear?!" Blake called out, waving his mug as Vincent turned toward the exit.

Stepping out of the inn, he breathed in the cool, afternoon air.

He walked down the bustling cobblestone streets, marveling at the sights around him. Most of the afternoon he spent strolling around.

Horse-drawn carriages glided past, alongside massive armored mounts guided by human handlers. Armored city guards marched in disciplined patrols, while children – a mix of human and beastkin – chased each other through the sunlit plazas with wooden swords.

As he rounded a corner into the artisan trade district, a sudden clamor caught his attention.

CLATTER!

"Ah! Oh no!"

A young dwarven woman, barely reaching Vincent’s chest, had tripped over a raised cobblestone.

She spilled to the ground, scattering a heavy wooden box filled with sparkling magical ores, iron ingots, and unrefined weapon parts across the sidewalk.

"Hey, are you alright?" Vincent asked, stepping forward and kneeling down beside her.

The dwarven woman looked up with embarrassment over her fumble as she pushed her messy orange hair out of her eyes.

"Agh! I’m fine, I’m fine! Just clumsy as a blind mole! I swear that bump wasn’t there before..."

She frantically began gathering the metal pieces back into the crate. "Dad told me to be careful with these raw materials, and I go and drop ’em right in the middle of the street! Idiot!"

"Here, let me give you a hand. Where are you taking all this?"

"Oh! Really? Thank you so much! My dad’s workshop is just right down the alley over there! Ironhammer Trinkets & Arms!"

"Lead the way," Vincent smiled, picking up the heavy crate with effortless ease, resting it securely in his arms.

The dwarven girl’s jaw dropped slightly at how easily he lifted the heavy box, but a bright, grateful smile quickly broke across her face.

"Wow! You’re really strong for a human guy! I’m Ellyn, by the way!"

"Vincent," he replied, following her down the alley.

Arriving at the shop, Ellyn pushed open the door to a cozy, somewhat cluttered shop filled with the warm scent of polished iron and leather.

Shelves lined the walls, crammed with glowing amulets, strange trinkets, weapon arms, and dusty books.

"Dad! I’m back! And I brought help!" Ellyn called out, gesturing for Vincent to set the box down on the worktable near the counter.

From behind a mountain of scrolls looked out an eccentric-looking dwarf with a long, braided gray beard, thick goggles pushed up on his forehead, and an apron covered in soot. He squinted at Vincent through his bushy eyebrows.

"Who’s the tall drink of water, Ellyn? A customer?"

"Potentially. He helped me carry the supply box after I dropped it in the street."

"Of course you dropped them. Name’s Barkly. Appreciate you helping my daughter without running away with my supplies. Don’t see many folks stopping to help a dwarf with heavy lifting nowadays."

"No problem at all."

Since he didn’t have any money to buy anything, Vincent casually browsed the display cases while Ellyn began sorting the ores.

His eyes landed on a strangely shaped iron sword resting on a cushioned stand. The blade was covered in faint, dormant runes.

Curious, he reached out and gently brushed his fingers along the flat of the blade.

Just to try it, he leaked out a tiny bit of his divine power from his fingertip into the metal.

’I wonder if the runes will light up–’

ZZZZZT!

Instantly, every single magic-detection instrument in the shop went completely haywire.

The weapons around him began shaking and falling off their displays, crystals shrieked with high-pitched ringing, and the dormant runes on every weapon that had them flashed with a blinding blue light.

CRACK!

The iron sword snapped cleanly in half.

’Oh.. no....’

"WHAT IN BLAZES ARE YOU DOING?!"

Vincent jumped back, throwing his hands up in a panic. "I-I didn’t mean to! I barely touched it!"

Barkly’s goggles snapped down over his eyes. He stared at the broken blade, then slowly raised his head to stare at Vincent in disbelief. Ellyn, as well, covered her mouth in shock for what he had done.

Fully pulling off his goggles, Barkly’s voice dropped into a serious whisper.

"Kid... that blade was forged from high-density mana-suppression steel. It takes an archmage just to make the runes flicker... You... you’re far from ordinary, aren’t you?"

"Ah... well... it’s a long story."

Barnaby stared at him for a long moment before turning around and rummaging through a wooden drawer behind the counter. He pulled out a small, metallic trinket attached to a dark leather cord. It looked like an intricate, silver pocket watch covered in hidden gears.

He threw it to Vincent, who caught it out of the air.

"Consider it a gift for the kind. And compensation for helping my daughter. No need to pay for the broken sword."

"What is this? Looks like a watch, but it isn’t."

"It’s a key and a compass. If you ever get tired of the squeaky-clean streets up here... follow the hand on that watch. It’ll lead you and grant you access to the city’s hidden Underground Market.

"You can find things down there that the Imperial guards would throw you in a dungeon for even looking at. Maybe even something that won’t break the moment you hold it."

Vincent’s eyes lit up with intrigue. He slipped the trinket securely into his pocket. "Thanks, Barkly."

"Keep it hidden, kid," Barkly warned with a wink.

Deciding it was time to leave before breaking anything else, he offered a polite wave to both dwarves. "Bye, Barkly! Bye, Ellyn!"

Tilda’s cheeks flushed a bright pink as she stepped forward, waving enthusiastically with both hands. "Goodbye, Vincent! Thanks again for helping me! You’re welcome back anytime! Really!"

As the door clicked shut behind him, Barkly crossed his arms, looking at his daughter with a teasing smirk. "Sounds like someone fancies the tall human boy..."

"WHA–?! DAD! SHUT UP! IT’S NOTHING LIKE THAT!" she shrieked, snatching a leather rag off the counter and violently hurling it right at his face.

Barkly let out a hearty laugh, dodging the rag easily as Ellyn stomped away embarrassed toward the back room.

......

As twilight began to cover the city, the sky transformed into a gorgeous hue of orange and deep purple.

Vincent walked up to a scenic bench overlook at the edge of the upper plaza.

Below him, the vast, sprawling city lit up with thousands of glowing mana-lamps and crystal lanterns, shimmering like stars under the approaching evening sky.

’A whole new world, huh? Alright Mama. I’ll try to enjoy this as much as I can.’

He knew his life from here on out was going to be completely wild, chaotic, and unpredictable. But as he reached into his pocket, feeling the cold metal of the underground trinket, a surge of genuine excitement washed through his chest.

Turning around, Vincent began his peaceful walk back toward The Golden Paws Inn, ready to see what tomorrow would bring.