Lord of Mysteries: The Traveler

Read ahead on my P@treon...

[email protected]/MayaMatengele01

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As Florent pushed open the door to the tavern, his heart was a mix of trepidation and curiosity.

Despite his inner turmoil, his actions were decisive...

Stepping into what felt like a new world, he didn't immediately take in his surroundings. Instead, he pretended to be a regular patron, casually moving away from the entrance and exploring the tavern as if out of curiosity.

However, once inside, the tavern's atmosphere quickly dispelled any sense of mystery Florent had imagined. The stark reality made his earlier cautious approach seem almost laughable.

He felt a pang of embarrassment for his overactive imagination and the unnecessary mental drama he had created. Yet, the horrors and absurdities of this world quickly reminded him that caution was never truly excessive...

He silently reaffirmed his resolve to remain vigilant and prioritize safety above all else.

While his mind raced, Florentʼs eyes scanned the tavern. To his surprise, the place bore little resemblance to the bars he had frequented in his previous life. Aside from the fact that both served alcohol, the similarities ended there.

The stench of the tavern was overwhelming...

The air was thick with the smell of alcohol, sweat, and the unmistakable odor of unwashed bodies. The pervasive reek of urine added to the sensory assault, shattering Florentʼs romanticized image of this place as a sanctuary of mysticism for his late father.

The chaotic scene before him was accompanied by a cacophony of indistinguishable noises. The disorienting mix of sights and sounds made Florentʼs head spin, and for a moment, his vision blurred.

He closed his eyes, trying to shake off the discomfort of being thrust into such a raucous environment. Neither in his past life nor in this one had he ever experienced such a noisy, chaotic setting. The dim lighting only added to the disorientation.

The candles in the tavern were far inferior to those in his home. They emitted a faint, flickering light and gave off a foul odor as the animal fat burned...

Compared to modern life, where even the average person enjoyed a quality of life that rivaled that of nobles, save for the burdens of housing, education, and healthcare... this world's luxuries paled in comparison.

The convenience, entertainment, and lighting of modern life were unimaginable to even the wealthiest of this era. Yet, Florent couldn't deny that the living conditions of the nobility here were, in some ways, superior to those of modern commoners.

As for the commoners of this world, Florent had initially viewed them with a detached, almost naive perspective. But now, he deeply understood the lamentations expressed in 'Travels and Observations in Trier', a book he had read...

Its author, Isais Bellu, had described the lives of the poor in a matter-of-fact tone, painting a picture far more harrowing than what Florent was witnessing in the tavern.

It was no wonder readers held her work in such high regard for its honesty and insight.

"Wherever there is difference, it feels like traveling from one place to another. In Trier alone, I've experienced a world of contrasts. What other wonders might I discover if I ventured further?" Florent mused, his initial discomfort giving way to a renewed curiosity about the wider world.

After the brief disorientation of stepping into a world so alien to his own, Florent adopted the mindset of an observer, calmly taking in the scene around him.

Suddenly, his spirituality stirred. He was momentarily startled, then felt a flicker of delight.

It seemed his act of blending in was having some effect, though he wasn't entirely sure of the rules governing this 'act'.

The tavern was far larger than any building Florent had seen, aside from the 'Trier National Library'...

While the floor space might have been comparable, the layout was entirely different. Instead of being divided into functional rooms like bedrooms, sitting rooms, and washrooms, the tavern was one vast, open space.

In one corner, a fenced-off area drew a crowd. People stood around, some holding drinks, others waving wooden tokens, their voices rising in a mix of cheers and curses.

The crowd was so dense that Florent couldn't see what was happening inside.

Just then, a sharp cry pierced the air, and the crowd momentarily fell silent. Then, with a roar, the noise returned, louder than before, as the crowd began to disperse like ants.

Florent watched the scene unfold, waiting until only a few stragglers remained before making his way against the thinning crowd toward the fenced area.

Inside the enclosure, the ground was stained with blood. A man, his face smeared with blood, was shouting in triumph...

Around him, some patrons cheered in response, their faces flushed with excitement as they drained their drinks. Others directed their anger at a severely injured man lying unconscious on a stretcher, spitting curses and saliva in his direction.

It dawned on Florent that the tavern hosted bloody combat matches, likely for gambling purposes. This didn't surprise him; many mercenaries considered such brutal entertainment the pinnacle of leisure, and taverns were their natural hang-outs.

Beyond the fighting pit, the tavern was filled with tables and patrons. In another corner, Florent discovered a gambling den, where the sounds of despair and elation mingled in a frenzy of human emotion.

He didn't linger to explore these areas further. Instead, he turned his attention to the heart of the tavern: the bar.

The bar was easy to spot, it was the most prominent feature of the establishment...

Rather than a single counter, it consisted of several smaller bars surrounding a central, larger one. Each bar was crowded with patrons.

Above each bar, price lists were clearly displayed.

Florent noticed that the smaller bars specialized in different types of alcohol, ranging from cheap drinks affordable to low-ranking mercenaries to expensive ones that could drain a mercenary's earnings from a single mission. The central bar, however, offered a wide variety, including both cheap and premium options.

Florent didn't spend much time examining the lists. Instead, he headed straight for the central bar, where the crowd was thinner and the bartenders more numerous. Some patrons collected their drinks and retreated to empty seats to enjoy them in relative peace.

At the center of the main bar stood a man who seemed less busy than the others...

His face was lined with wrinkles, and his thinning hair was a mix of gray and black, dull and lifeless. His arms were muscular, veins bulging, but his midsection bore the telltale signs of middle-aged weight gain.

The man, presumably the tavern owner, surveyed the scene with a weary, disinterested expression...