“So this is a town where humans live… Just as the books described—so lively. Completely different from the places we’ve been before… worlds apart.”

This was Yethania, a border city of the Kingdom of Tiyehua. Rean and Olga arrived precisely at noon, when shops lined the streets and crowds filled the avenues.

Standing amid the bustling flow of people and vendors hawking their wares, Olga stretched luxuriously, refreshed after breathing fresh air for the first time in ages, her eyes sparkling with delight.

Hearing her remark, Rean’s brows knitted into a knot.

“Are you implying something?”

Rean knew well: Christine, one of the continent’s most prosperous nations, did hold an economic edge over the Kingdom of Tiyehua—but not *that* extreme. Truth was, Quin Town, the place they’d visited together, simply wasn’t a major city.

“No… I don’t think your hometown is lacking,” Olga shook her head. “It’s just… my first time in such a lively place. Everything’s new to me—I’m a little excited… Never mind. Let’s rest and continue our journey.”

*Huh… Nothing special here?*

Rean scanned the surroundings—ordinary streets, common shops. Nothing rare.

*Could it be…*

“Don’t tell me the Celestial Realm doesn’t even have shops or street vendors?”

At his question, Olga’s expression dimmed. Her unfocused gaze dropped to her feet.

“Because… we have to find everything we need ourselves…”

*No way… So no currency system either?*

Rean rolled his eyes.

Humans dreamed of heaven as a painless utopia—but hearing Olga, the Celestial Realm sounded worse than his quiet hometown.

*Well. Since we’re here… might as well indulge this curious little thing.*

“How about we explore a bit? We’ve got time.”

“Really!? I’ve always wanted to experience human society firsthand!”

Olga leaned close, eyes bright with hope—then flinched as her loud voice drew glances from passersby.

“Ahem… I mean, is it truly alright to linger? Our goal was to use the Kingdom of Tiyehua’s clash with Mammon, the Fifth Demon King, to eliminate him. Shouldn’t we head straight to the Royal Capital?”

“No need. I’m not cooperating with them. Just using them.”

“But if you stay with them… you’ll still protect them, won’t you?”

“…Don’t ask pointless questions.”

Under her earnest gaze, Rean turned away stiffly.

“Before I change my mind, let’s eat. I know a good spot.”

“Okay~ Lead the way!”

A gentle smile graced Olga’s lips as she stepped beside him.

*Tch. That knowing look… annoying.*

Rean pressed a finger to his aching temple.

*Fine. Haven’t traveled with anyone in ages. Won’t ruin her mood.*

Recalling Yethania’s layout, Rean led her forward—but kept observing. He noticed non-human races among the crowd: an elf bard cradling a harp, a feline-eared waitress, dwarves selling ale. Their clothes were worn, some bore faint scars, yet all worked with quiet passion.

*Refugees… homes destroyed by war.*

Remembering the shattered roads, Rean understood their sudden presence.

*Greed truly knows no bounds… Maybe he’d make a fine meal for that sealed Beast of Greed.*

A flicker of disgust crossed his face at the memory.

His gaze then settled on a modest house. Few entered, yet a “Open for Business” sign hung beside the door.

“Are you sure this is a restaurant?” Olga whispered. “It looks like a home…”

“Absolutely. I’ve eaten here before.” Rean glanced back with a smirk. “Or do you think judging by appearance is foolish?”

“True—wait! Are you calling *me* foolish!?”

Olga realized too late. Rean chuckled.

*He’d felt the same on his first visit.*

“Enough.” His tone turned serious. “Three rules: One, keep your wings covered. Two, no shouting ‘This is human society!’ on the street. Three, don’t slip and reveal *my* identity too. Understood?”

He’d worried her curiosity might expose them—no joke if it happened. Unlike other races, the Celestial and Demon Realms were near-myths to humans. Angels, who’d done little for them, were revered; Demon Kings, not all hostile, were hated. *Unfair.*

“Do I look careless?” Olga shot him a glance and tightened her cloak.

“Good. See that you do.”

Ignoring the vein on her forehead, Rean pushed the door open.

Inside, warmth replaced street noise. Simple decor, soft lighting, quiet corners—a hidden comfort.

“Welcome! How may I assist you?” A human girl, sixteen or seventeen, bowed after setting down a dish.

“A quiet table, please,” Rean smiled.

“…Right this way.” She led them to a wall-side corner. “Menu shortly.”

“So this is a restaurant… Sharing a meal with strangers feels so new,” Olga murmured, then grinned at Rean. “Wait—you actually say ‘please’ politely?”

Rean’s brows twitched. *Basic manners. I’m nobility, but here I’m just a traveler.*

“Upbringing. When someone serves you, gratitude is proper.” He turned toward the window—then froze.

A tall woman in flowing white Eastern robes sat alone, sipping wine. Ethereal, detached—a dissonant note in the scene. But Rean’s eyes locked on her weapons: two longswords. One sheathed. The bare blade seemed plain… yet to Rean, alchemical craftsman, a faint blue glow shimmered along its edge, etched with runes in an unknown script. *Familiar… Where have I seen this?*

“How much longer will you stare at another woman?”

A low voice snapped him back. Olga glared, cheeks flushed and puffed like a sunflower-seed-stuffed hamster.

“None of your business.”

Rean dropped his gaze, counting wood grain patterns on the table.

“How is it not my—”

The waitress returned with the menu. “Sorry to keep you waiting!”

As Rean took it, he caught her uneasy sideways glance.

“Something wrong?”

“N-no! Just… my imagination. Sorry!” She fidgeted.

“If you have a question, ask. I’ll answer if I can.” Rean offered a gentle smile.

“Then… have you visited our shop before?” she asked shyly.

*She recognizes me?*

“Years ago. Why?”

Her face lit up. “It’s really you! You haven’t changed at all! I always wanted to thank you and that lady…” Her eyes drifted to Olga, voice fading, expression awkward. She turned back, whispering:

“I’m so sorry… I didn’t realize you’d… changed companions.”

Rean’s face went rigid.