Tower of Paradise

Chapter 114: Change of perspective (2)

REINHARDT'S POV

—Yes! —The sigh of satisfaction escaped her lips as she placed the beer glass on the table, her small hand barely managing to hold the glass container with difficulty.

—Alcohol during the day is the best! —she exclaimed, closing her eyes with evident pleasure.

—You’re drinking and ignoring me… —I complained, unable to contain the frustration in my voice. I looked at her with bitterness, feeling my patience slip away with each sip she took.

I observed the table in front of us, where several empty beer bottles were piled up, surrounded by dirty plates that gave off a faint smell of stale food. It was painfully obvious that Mica had indulged in a feast while I sat there, helplessly watching as the meager money Arceus had scavenged from the bodies of some thieves vanished. We had been in that place for over an hour, and my patience was depleting as quickly as my wallet.

I studied her for a moment; she was a dazzling beauty, I couldn’t deny it. Her cheeks, flushed from the alcohol, and those amber eyes that shone with an almost supernatural intensity contrasted with her slightly disheveled blonde hair that cascaded over her shoulders like a golden waterfall. She wore a white tunic reminiscent of a priest’s, but over it was a chainmail. Additionally, her chest, arms, and legs were covered with layers of metallic protection. It was, at the very least, a complex outfit.

«Is she a priestess or a warrior?»

I couldn’t help but feel that my own attire seemed shoddy in comparison.

«One day, I…»

I resolved to level up, acquire better gear, and join these incredible individuals as soon as possible.

—I drink a lot. Let’s have fun! —Mica raised her hand with complete indifference, her gaze lost somewhere in the distance of the guild.

—Just tell me how I can join you —I insisted, making a titanic effort to stay calm as I felt my patience crumbling like a sandcastle.

I had previously spoken with Master Iván to gain authorization and take on missions from the guild’s board. However, he had been absolutely clear: I couldn’t venture out alone, as the missions were too dangerous for a novice like me. I had to team up with some of the established members.

After analyzing all the available options, I had chosen Mica. My decision wasn’t arbitrary; I calculated that her strength and experience would be significant advantages for my integration. She was twice my age, which implied years of accumulated knowledge that could benefit me greatly. Her seemingly calm and cheerful personality, combined with that carefree air, had convinced me that persuading her would be relatively easy.

How wrong I was. I never imagined I’d end up in this situation, suffering the consequences of my choice while watching a hardcore alcoholic systematically consume my scarce resources.

—Oh, basically… You have to pass a little test —Mica finally replied with a sweet smile, her face lit up by an inner glow that contrasted with my growing irritation.

—A test?

—To prove your abilities —she nodded, her right hand holding another small glass vial, ready to be emptied.

—What’s the mission? —I felt a slight nervousness run down my spine.

—This mission is mainly to investigate the case of the missing people in the capital —she explained with a small smile I couldn’t fully interpret.

* * *

The capital was immense, with an expanse that seemed endless, surrounded and protected by an imposing wall.

Sherazade was built like a fortress, with a high wall of hard alloy, a deep moat, and numerous large-caliber turrets placed in specific positions to create a lethal dome of air suppression. No creature, not even fourth-evolution monsters, was supposed to be able to breach its defenses.

—Damn it.

I muttered under my breath, cursing my luck and my lack of foresight. If I had anticipated that my role would be as bait, infiltrating the enemy’s headquarters alone, I would never have agreed to join Mica’s group. The mission was, to say the least, as unattainable as trying to touch the heavens with my hands. It seemed unlikely that things would unfold as they had explained.

The problem lay in my low level.

I was a Level 2 (E). More importantly, no team was foolish enough to let a novice mage join them when there were already several mages to begin with.

—Help us and let us focus on the mission. We’ll protect you from danger. Got it?

—I understand.

Considering that most Awakened would start as assistants regardless of their level, the words Mica had spoken were quite considerate. It wasn’t just about testing my abilities but about participating in various missions, adventures to learn and experience to the fullest.

I observed my surroundings, enveloped by the night that had covered the city with its starry mantle. However, the faint glow of magical streetlamps kept the darkness at bay with silent efficiency. I stood in the heart of a cobblestone street, where the bricks and uneven stones told centuries of planning and effort. I approached a nearby building and, leaning my back against a stone pillar, slid down to the ground. A sigh escaped my lips, laden with an exhaustion that weighed as much on my body as on my mind.

The streets, designed with precision, were divided into lanes that ensured smooth traffic, while the elevated sidewalks, protected by discreet fences, offered refuge to pedestrians. I recalled my arrival in Sherazade, the plazas I had explored with fascination, especially the Central Plaza. By day, that place was a hive of life: stalls overflowed with fresh vegetables, exotic spices, and products that wove a tapestry of vibrant colors and intoxicating aromas.

—Come try our delicious grilled fish!

—Hot and fresh oyster soup. Grab a bowl in the morning and feel revitalized all day!

The vendors, with warm and persuasive voices, threw out offers that seemed irresistible, while elderly women, with cunning sharpened by years of experience, haggled without yielding an inch. Among the crowd, young people succumbed to the tempting aroma of grilled meat skewers, their juices sizzling as they hit the fire, promising a delight that melted in the mouth. Some stopped and compared carefully before buying. Others waved their hands impatiently, as they hadn’t yet found work for the day.

Before me, Sherazade unfolded like a living canvas. Compared to Danafor—the underground city where Iván’s guild echoed among shadows—this capital shone with a symphony of urban perfection that dazzled the senses. Ochre stone buildings lined up in harmonious rows, the avenues gleamed impeccably, and life buzzed in every corner: people immersed in their daily tasks, a constant murmur of activity.