Limon, brimming with a sense of adventure, stepped forward confidently until he was beside the bird. With a fluid motion, he vaulted onto its back.
The entire process was surprisingly seamless. Perhaps due to prior training, the bird stood as still as a statue.
"Go!"
With a soft yet firm command, Limon tugged the control rope and lightly tapped the bird's flank.
The bird obeyed without hesitation, taking steady strides and trotting out of the alley with a calm and composed demeanor.
It was Limon's first experience riding a bird, and he had expected some trial and error. However, the process turned out to be far simpler than anticipated.
The bird's back provided a remarkably stable perch, free from jolts or discomfort, which pleasantly surprised him.
Despite the thrill coursing through him, Limon wasn't one to lose himself in excitement.
Exiting the alley, he deliberately slowed the bird's pace, maintaining a brisk but controlled trot through the bustling streets.
The thoroughfare was alive with pedestrians, making any reckless behavior imprudent.
As Limon guided the bird eastward along East City Avenue, he noticed the prevalent use of birds as mounts in Arizela.
Throughout his journey to the East Gate, he passed numerous riders, most clad in the distinct attire of adventurers, adding vibrancy to the cityscape.
Although the Adventurer's Guild map indicated that the East Gate was nearby, the city's vast expanse proved otherwise. After traversing approximately three kilometers, the imposing city wall finally loomed into view.
Passing through the arched gateway, a shadow momentarily enveloped him, emphasizing the sheer thickness of the city wall—easily over thirty meters deep, a formidable defense.
Emerging from the tunnel, Limon was greeted by a bustling scene that caught him off guard.
Rather than the barren wilderness he had expected, a vibrant market stretched out before him, with rows of open-air stalls.
Beyond the market, tents dotted the landscape, contrasting sharply with the vivid and sometimes opulent clothing of the city's inhabitants. The people here wore tattered garments of coarse cloth, their muted gray hues worn and frayed with age.
It was clear this market catered to the city's less fortunate.
Limon observed the scene thoughtfully, realizing Arizela's splendor masked the struggles of many.
Not far from the market, Limon noticed a railway station—a platform with tracks running beneath it.
Though Lalasa had mentioned railways, seeing one up close still left him in awe.
It was a world where magic and machinery coexisted, blending seamlessly to create something extraordinary.
But Limon didn't linger on the thought. Regardless of the world's intricacies, his primary focus was survival.
"Hey!"
Snapping out of his reverie, Limon flicked the control rope against his palm.
The bird responded instantly, letting out a shrill cry before darting forward. Amid the startled gazes of bystanders, it sped along the railway, disappearing like a gust of wind.
Arizela was nestled in an oasis, surrounded by golden sands and patches of lush greenery.
The wind brushing against Limon's face carried with it a sense of freedom. The desert's stark beauty stretched before him—rolling dunes interspersed with verdant groves.
The fir silk robe he wore proved invaluable. Though the desert heat was oppressive, he remained cool and comfortable, the fabric insulating him from the sun's harsh rays.
Half an hour later, Limon slowed the bird near a cylindrical stone sentry tower, coming to a clumsy stop.
The greenery had vanished, replaced by an endless expanse of barren wilderness.
He was nearing his destination: the sandy fishing ground.
The sentry tower stood as a solitary landmark in the desolation.
"Hey, you up there!"
A voice suddenly rang out, halting Limon in his tracks.
Looking up, he saw a soldier leaning out from the sentry tower, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Are you an adventurer heading to the sandy fishing ground? Laradoa's money doesn't come easy. Plenty of adventurers have gone there recently, but none lasted a day. You'd best turn back and save yourself the trouble."
Limon glanced at the soldier, noting his brass chainmail.
"Don't meddle," another voice interjected from within the tower. "Do you still want to eat sandbone fish?"
Chuckling, the soldier waved dismissively. "Fine, fine. I won't discourage the adventurer. The fishing ground is just ahead. See that path over there? Follow it."
Without a word, Limon urged the bird forward, leaving the soldier behind.
The sandy fishing ground wasn't far from the sentry tower—just two kilometers ahead, near an oasis.
When he arrived, he was greeted by an unassuming wooden hut and a vast expanse of sand.
"Did I take a wrong turn?" Limon muttered, surveying the barren landscape.
Just then, a diminutive figure emerged from the hut, waving enthusiastically.
"Over here! You must be the adventurer Lalasa mentioned!"
The man was an elf—short, with a neatly trimmed beard that set him apart from Lalasa.
Clad in suspenders and trousers, he had the air of a hardworking laborer.
Without hesitation, Limon dismounted and led the bird toward him.
"I'm Laladoya, the owner of the Sandy Fishery," the elf introduced himself with a warm smile.
Limon nodded, keeping his response succinct.
"Great, I have just the task for you," Laladoya said, though his cheerful tone was tinged with exasperation.
He gestured to the sand behind the hut.
"See that quicksand pool? It's a fisher's graveyard—deadly for most, though us elves can manage. But that's not your concern."
Laladoya pointed to a distant dune.
"Beyond that lies another pool—natural and bottomless. The kingdom used it as a burial site for years. Now, thanks to the third magic tide, corpses have been rising as undead. Weak skeletons, sure, but their numbers are overwhelming. They crawl out at night and retreat by day. It's a mess."
Limon's brow furrowed. "The kingdom hasn't dealt with this?"
"They tried," Laladoya replied with a shrug. "But stationing troops here is expensive. So, they fund adventurers to handle it—five silver coins per skeleton."
The meager reward explained why previous adventurers hadn't stuck around. But for Limon, it was an opportunity.
"I'll take care of it," he said firmly.
Laladoya's face lit up. "Excellent! Remember to collect elemental crystals from the undead—they're valuable. Oh, and take these supplies."
He handed Limon a bag of dried sandbone fish, a water pouch, and a tiny, feathered creature.
"This is a blue bird. It'll tally your kills. Just feed it some sandbone fish it loves the stuff."
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Limon secured the supplies to his saddle and set off, ready to face the night's challenges.