Chapter 54: House Hunting

Chapter 54: House HuntingThe morning sun slipped through the cracks of Inigo’s curtains, casting soft light across the wooden floorboards. He woke before the usual knock from the innkeeper, his internal clock sharp from years of waking early—whether in his old world or this one. For a brief moment, he lay still, staring at the ceiling, letting the quiet of the morning settle over him like a second blanket. Then he sat up, stretched, and got ready. Amber’s Hearth smelled of baked bread and tea as he made his way downstairs. The innkeeper, more awake this time, greeted him with a nod and pushed a cup of steaming tea across the counter. "Guild heroes get free breakfast today," she said. Inigo chuckled. "Then I guess I’ll have to get used to fame." She rolled her eyes fondly. "One breakfast. Don’t push it." After a quick bite, he stepped out into the street, where the bustle of the city had already begun. The stalls were open again, hawking everything from woven cloaks to spiced sausages. But he wasn’t headed to the market today. As promised, Lyra arrived just before midmorning, wearing a simple traveling cloak and a neatly tucked blouse and pants combo—functional, but sharp. "You’re actually on time," she said as they met outside the inn. "I didn’t want you to make all the decisions without me," Inigo replied. "Too bad. I’m already leaning toward a house with a garden." They shared a grin, then made their way to the Royal Bank of Elandra. The building itself stood just two blocks away from the central plaza—an imposing stone structure with polished marble columns and gilded archways. Uniformed guards stood at the entrance, eyeing every passerby with professional suspicion. Inside, the bank was quieter than expected, but no less intimidating. The floor was checkered with black and white tiles, and chandeliers of mana-light hung from the ceiling like glowing vines. Attendants in gold-trimmed coats moved with practiced grace between counters and offices. A clerk noticed them immediately. "Adventurers from the Guild?" he asked, eyeing the phoenix brooches they both wore. "Yes. We’re here to claim the reward issued yesterday," Inigo said, producing the claim parchment Kael had given them. "Right this way," the clerk replied, leading them past the main hall and into a side chamber lined with iron-barred booths. At one of them sat a well-dressed woman in her mid-thirties, hair in a tight bun and a ledger open before her. She adjusted her glasses and gave a courteous nod. "Name?" "Inigo and Lyra. Gold-rank. Rift completion." She flipped through several pages, then found the record. "Ten thousand gold coins each," she confirmed. "However, we do not recommend withdrawing the full amount in coin. Risk of theft, travel complications, and weight." "We figured," Lyra said. "What are the options?" The banker reached under the desk and produced two long slips of parchment with intricate royal seals and golden threads running down the side. "These are banknotes—official documents redeemable at any Royal Bank across the kingdom. Each is unique and magically marked. You may choose to cash a portion now, if needed, or hold the notes for larger transactions." "Do people accept these in day-to-day trade?" Inigo asked. "Only for large purchases—land, property, some merchants. But most establishments here in Elandra recognize their value. For daily use, you may wish to break them into smaller sums or deposit them into a carrying account." "Let’s take a hundred gold each in coin," Lyra said. "The rest in notes." "Agreed," Inigo added. The banker nodded and stamped their claim parchment. A vault attendant disappeared behind a steel door, returning moments later with two small pouches—heavy enough to clink, light enough to fit in a pocket—and the banknotes, each folded into leather-bound sleeves. As they stepped back into the sunlight, Inigo tucked his note away into an inner coat pocket and tied the coin pouch to his belt. "Well," Lyra said, giving hers a light toss. "Feels real now." "Yeah. Gold-ranked adventurers with actual gold," Inigo said. "And now..." She turned on her heel. "House hunting." They made their way toward the residential district northeast of the plaza. The district had a quiet charm: cobbled streets lined with old oak trees, small family gardens, and rows of houses built from stone, timber, or sometimes a blend of both. A few estate brokers had offices here, marked by signs hanging above their doors: Elandra Property Holdings, Dunrow Realty, Oak & Stone Brokers. They chose the last one. The interior smelled of dried parchment and pine oil. Behind the desk sat a middle-aged man with gray streaks in his beard and a pair of sharp eyes. "Looking to buy or lease?" he asked. "Buy," Lyra said, before Inigo could speak. "Something for one person, but with room to grow. Nothing overly grand, just solid structure, quiet street, maybe a backyard." The man tilted his head, intrigued. "Ah. The practical kind. We don’t get many of those. Most adventurers want towers or bathhouses." Lyra snorted. "He’s not most adventurers." The broker pulled out a folio and flipped through it, then laid out three options. First was a stone cottage near the edge of the district. It had two floors, a storage cellar, and a tiny greenhouse out back. But it was a little too far from the main road, and the greenhouse roof was half-collapsed. "Next." Searᴄh the NôᴠeFire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. The second was a three-room timber home near the plaza. Beautiful design, freshly painted, but it had no backyard and the neighbor’s forge was next door—loud and always smoky. Inigo rubbed his nose. "Feels claustrophobic." "Last one, then," the broker said. They walked with him to see it in person. A modest two-story home near the bend of a stream. The building was mostly stone with wood trim. Ivy crept up one side, and the front yard had a small fence and a large tree with a bench underneath. Inside: clean floors, a working hearth, a study, and an upstairs bedroom with windows facing east. "This," Lyra said, arms crossed, "is the one." Inigo walked through the living space slowly, running his hand along the wall. Solid. Clean. Quiet. "How much?" "Eighteen hundred gold," the broker said. "Fair." They didn’t haggle. Back at the broker’s office, Inigo filled out the deed documents and signed the parchment. Lyra helped him walk through the terms, and he paid the amount with his banknote—deducting the amount and receiving the change in a smaller note for later use. By late afternoon, they were sitting on the bench beneath the tree in his new yard. "Well," Lyra said, kicking off her boots. "You’re officially a homeowner." "I still can’t believe it," Inigo said. "Yesterday I was sleeping in an inn. Today I have a fence." "Tomorrow, you’ll be complaining about garden maintenance." He laughed. They sat for a few more minutes in comfortable silence as the stream nearby babbled quietly. Eventually, Lyra stood. "So now that you have a house, what do you plan on doing next?" "I’m thinking of another thing," Inigo hummed in thought. "I plan on starting a business."