The pub was closing and everybody was leaving. So I did the same. I paid my bill and stepped out of the building. It was after midnight and people were struggling to walk home. I couldn't tell whether I was sad or happy considering that I didn't have the same effect they were having. Noticing one of them throwing up, I went with the second option.

After this experience, it reminded me of how good it was that I escaped from the tyrant. I had yet to adapt with the human culture. But what popped inside my mind was the fact that I could had done this without a fellow friend. I was separated from that friend the moment we fled. Mao was nowhere to be seen since these past two months.

Shaking my head, I set off to find a place to stay for the night. It was stupid of me to not rent a room first. I sighed, walking about in search of an inn.

Not far from the pub was an inn called Nice Inn. I found it to be a peculiar name and when I went inside, I asked if it was pronounced Nice. The lady behind the counter chuckled, correcting me, "It's Ni-ce."

I raised a bow, but gave no more thoughts to it. I said, "How much is it for a night here?"

"It's five silvers."

The price was higher than my previous stays at other towns, though it was a pretty shabby place. The Nice Inn was clean and organized. I hadn't seen the bedrooms yet, but I supposed it was the same as the front. I pulled out five silver coins from my bag and handing them over to the lady. She thanked me and in return, gave me the key to my room. I nodded, and went up the stairs.

In the lobby of this inn, the door set at the south and the reception table was opposite of it. To the right of the table was the stairs up to the rooms. In the middle of all this were couple of tables and chairs and they had served ales and food. It appeared all the people from the pub moved to this inn in order to drink the night away.

Gawking at the tag attached to the keys, I read the number of the room. 218. Looking at the numbers as I stepped off the stairs, I guessed mine was towards the end. As I was finding my room, one of the doors opened and out came a girl with chestnut hair. Her hair was braided in four strands, reaching down to her lower back. Bandages wrapped around her right eye. What clothed her was this wench dress. From her waist and up was the maroon corset. The sable laces were tied tightly. Inside was a cotton chemise and the sleeves' length were abreast her chest. Her long skirt, dropping down to her ankles, was a dark colored brown, though I assumed that it was stygian at first. On the bottom of her feet were raised shoes, giving her more of an advantage over me if we were to compare heights.

My first reaction to seeing her was for me to smile and greet her. She did the same. We should be on our way, but I managed to spark a conversation.

"The noise woke you up?"

"Not particularly." Then she paused for a second. "Well, maybe just a little bit. Heh. Did you just get here?"

She eyed the key in my hands. I replied, "Yeah. I got back from The Happy Earl."

"Ah. That place is quite the attraction, isn't it?"

Small chats. A conversation about nothing. This was going nowhere. Why did I decide to do this? Perhaps it could be this feeling in my gut that I didn't want her to leave. I sighed, pinching the middle of my brows. The woman tilted her head, a bit confused about my reaction. It made her worried, and she was probably wondering if she did something wrong. So she ended up introducing herself, "My name is Asta. What about you?"

"Erland."

One thing that I had observed from this person was the fact that she wasn't exactly staring at me. It was unfortunate that my body was shorter than most, so she was taller than me about an inch or two (if you excluded the heels that added in another fingerbreadth). Her gaze went over the top of my head. Our distance were the suitable length, but I felt like she couldn't see me. Was she blind?

"Sorry to intrude, but…" I stepped forward—disregarding human etiquette—and waved my hand in front of her. She blinked, her eyeball following the movement of my hand. Suddenly, she grabbed it, finally gaining vision of me. Looking down, she apologized, figuring out my rash actions. She was partially blind, but how could she not realize that I was inches below her. Releasing me, Asta gave an apologetic smile, explaining, "I'm still getting used to my new eyes. My left is only one that's working currently after the surgery."

I made a pointless "ah" and went with that. Having the senses that humans weren't fond of nosy folks, I sojourned there. Asta, on the other hand, found herself to continue clarifying her situation, "It was during my travels."

Then she made a wave to gesture a saying, "Do you want to go down and chat or perhaps tomorrow? It's late and you should get some sleep. I'm getting tired of standing around."

"Nah, I'm a nocturnal, but do you want to go down to the lobby? It's noisy down there."

She agreed and suggested that we went for a walk around Roma—the city. "I've recovered from my injuries so now I'm back here to my hometown. I can give you a tour. There are many things to see at night."

"I'll take you up on that offer."