Maxime paused for a moment, watching the vibrant city, and murmured to himself:
"For how much longer?"
After being allowed into the city, Maxime and his mercenaries separated from the crowd on the central alley and moved into a cobbled alley, looking for a place to rest.
The group, exhausted by the battles and the night's flight, was in desperate need of sleep. Rodrigo suddenly raised his hand and pointed to a carved wooden sign depicting a sleeping dragon, called L'Auberge de l'antre du Dragon.
They entered, and were greeted by a puff of warmth and a delicious smell of stew.
All the mercenaries began to swallow thanks to the smell mixed with the cries of distress from their stomachs.
The innkeeper, a stocky man with grey hair and bright eyes, quickly sized them up. But despite their dirty, battle-scarred outfits, he didn't neglect them.
The weapons they carried made it clear that they were not to be trifled with.
