“Oh, yes. Sure. I almost forgot. This place is really magnetic,” Enatsu replied.

The merchant and Yoichi walked down one of Goldhaven’s widest roads. Another signboard attached to the wall of a building gave the name of that street. ​​

‘Imperial Road’ – read the inscription engraved on the wood.

“So this is the famous Imperial Road. Do you know why it’s called that?” Enatsu asked, already knowing the answer to that question.

“You’re kidding, aren’t you?” Yoichi chuckled.

“Goldhaven has four entrances: one to the south, one to the west and one to the east. The Imperial Road connects the gates to Emperor Nishiyama’s Palace.”

“Well, I thought this story was more interesting. It seems like a fairly banal meaning”, the young tamer commented. In front of him, a group of old people enjoyed the walk.

“Tentochu guild warriors usually go down this road when they return from their battles. You know, every single tile of the Imperial Road has a story to tell,” the merchant added. “Look, the Old Bazaar is that way, right ahead of us!”

Yoichi’s gaze looted in the direction indicated by his friend. A chaotic set of old ruins covered an entire area of the city. Between the old columns and collapsed vaults of what looked like an ancient square, many stalls and wooden hovels next to each other.

Torches, candles and other unknown light objects decorated Tentochu’s largest Bazaar, famous for its merchants from all over the world. On top of each other, sometimes even in very little space, the stalls occupied every corner of the yellowish stone ruins.

The columns and arches of broken stone, once of the same white stone typical of the area, were yellowed with time. The roof of that bizarre structure was made of huge tarps of colourful cloth. Blue, green, yellow: intertwined and tied to each other, the wide curtains kept traders and their customers safe from rain and weather phenomena.

The Old Bazaar didn’t have an entrance and exit. Anyone could enter where the space between the stalls was wider, not to hinder the passage of some workhorse loaded with goods.

The faces of the workers in that multicultural neighbourhood were decidedly more exotic than those of the people of Ambershire. Darker or more olive complexion, brightly-coloured demons, and improbable-shaped dresses enriched their zany personalities.

Anyone entering Tentochu’s largest open market followed the yelling of traders, intent on advertising their goods. Even those who had no intention of buying anything specific went into that place, enjoying that multitude of smells and views.

“Holy shit! I’ve heard a lot about this place, but I admit I didn’t think it was so huge,” Enatsu affirmed, open-mouthed. Merchant since he was just a kid, for him that Bazaar was like an earthly paradise.

Yoichi and his friend entered that chaotic cluster of objects and people, mingling with the crowd. Visitors from all over the world reached the Old Bazaar even just to see it once in a lifetime, intrigued by the food specialties for sale and the ancient relics on display.

The road tiles under their eyes were not visible due to the thousands of feet walking on them. Little flying demons fluttered here and there, swaying among the colourful tarps above the ruins.

Sora, intimidated by all those people concentrated in one place, decided to stay on Enatsu’s shoulder. Kenji did the same, letting Yoichi pick it up. The little Nekage chose to cling to the small leather bag its tamer carried on a shoulder.

“But… what’s that? It looks like we just got into another world! Where do all these people come from?” Yoichi yelled, trying to drown out the buzz of the crowd.

“It sounds like magic, doesn’t it? Haha! I told you it would be worth it!” Enatsu remarked, continuing to walk forward.

The two adventurers walked aimlessly for more than half an hour. At one point, strange glittering objects caught the young tamer’s attention.

What appeared to be ancient weapons were neatly arranged on a stall. A rough wooden beam was resting on two boulders of the same size, ensuring stability to the entire rudimentary structure.

A man with a very dark complexion was sitting behind it, on a large red pillow resting on the ground. His head was wrapped in a turban that resembled the sand of the desert with its light colour. On his forehead, a stain of red paint.

“Good afternoon, travellers. What can I do for you?” the man suddenly demanded. Expert merchant, he had noticed Yoichi’s interested gaze from yards away.

“Hello. I was getting a load of these weapons and… I was wondering where they came from. I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Yoichi affirmed. Enatsu approached his friend, fearing that that cunning merchant might cheat him.

“You’re not the first one to ask me, and you won’t be the last!” the man in a turban chuckled, touching his long black moustache and standing up.

When he got up from his large pillow, the merchant revealed to his customers his true stature, which exceeded that of his stall by a few inches.

“There are no weapons like mine in the surroundings. These come from one of the darkest dungeons in the north. Their blades were forged in the magma of Blackhorn Mountain, the volcano north of Mukade. There is no warrior from the region of fire who does not worship this steel”, the moustached little man explained, opening his arms and illustrating to the two young friends his merchandise.

“Mukade? He’s talking about the independent nation, right?” Yoichi said, asking Enatsu for confirmation. The merchant nodded, confirming his question.

“They’re gorgeous. I guess it was hard to bring them here and…”

“The youngest is about 3000 years old, and its first owner was a powerful demon tamer. It is said to have been the master of a fire demon powerful enough to turn Blackhorn Mountain into a volcano,” the man with the turban interrupted again. As a good merchant, he would also sell an old iron as the rarest of items.