The city greeted them with noise and crowding. Narrow streets were packed with people, carts, merchants, and mercenaries. The smell of food, metal, and smoke hung in the air. After the silence of the road, it pressed heavily on the mind.

  “First, an inn,” Rin said. “Without sleep, we’re nothing tomorrow.”

  They found one near the inner wall — an old but sturdy building with a worn wooden sign. The owner, a stocky man with a grim face, quickly inspected their weapons and nodded.

  “Separate rooms available. Not free.”

  “We’ll take them,” Kael said without hesitation.

  They were given three small rooms.

  One — for Kael.

  He stopped at the door and clenched his fist.

  “I’m alone,” he said after a short pause.

  The second room was for Rin and Elf.

  The third — for Nika and the granddaughter, Mika.

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  The doors closed. The inn fell into silence, broken only by footsteps and the distant noise of the street.

  Kael’s room was empty: a bed, a table, a jug of water. He sat down, placing his sword beside him. His hands were still slightly trembling — not from exhaustion, but because the fight and death had not fully let him go.

  In another room, Nika and Mika sat on the bed. Nika wanted to speak, to find the right words, but Mika stared at one point, as if her gaze was lost somewhere far away.

  “Tomorrow will be different,” Nika said softly. “You’re not alone. Do you understand?”

  Mika slowly nodded without lifting her eyes.

  In the neighboring room, Rin and Elf spoke in lowvoices.

  “Sixty silver per head — it’s not a rumor,” Rin said. “I saw the board near the barracks.”

  “Then we start small,” Elf replied. “Low-rank monsters. No risks. Fast and clean.”

  Almost no one slept that night.

  In the morning — without unnecessary words — they gathered in the courtyard of the inn. Their gear was checked, weapons in place.

  “We go out today,” Kael said. “No heroics. We work together.”

  Everyone nodded.

  Beyond the city walls, the road led toward the mountains. Low-rank creatures were most often seen near the rocky slopes. That was where they were heading.

  The monsters looked like twisted dogs — elongated muzzles, gray-black fur, and crude swords clutched in their front limbs, as if someone had taught them how to fight.

  The first battle was short.

  Kael moved with confidence. He killed quickly, without unnecessary motions. One monster after another fell — by noon, there were already eight. The girls covered him: Rin kept distance, Elf finished enemies off, and Nika made sure his strength didn’t run dry.

  “Twelve,” Elf said closer to evening.

  Kael wiped his blade on the grass. He wanted to reach fifteen, but he could feel the risk growing.

  “That’s enough for today,” he decided.

  They returned to the city tired, but alive.

  At the barracks, the trophies were accepted without questions. Silver clinked against the table.

  “Seven hundred and twenty,” the clerk said.

  It was enough for three or four days — food, lodging, and preparation.

  When they stepped back onto the street, the city no longer felt so hostile.

  It was their first step.

  Small. Bloody. But their own.