The streets of the bustling town were alive with the chatter of vendors, the clink of coins, and the sharp hiss of metal as a swordsmith demonstrated his craft. A pair of children dashed by, laughing, their wooden toys clattering as they dodged carts laden with fresh produce. The aroma of grilled fish mingled with the faint tang of river water, while the occasional shout of a merchant hawking wares pierced the air.

Mizu moved with calm precision, her straw hat tilted to shield her face from curious eyes. She walked a step ahead of her companion, a woman cloaked in equal anonymity, though her stride was more relaxed. Despite the noise of the street, the sound of the woman’s steps beside her was grounding, a quiet rhythm Mizu had grown used to—perhaps even depended on more than she cared to admit.

Mizu’s gaze flicked to a nearby stall where a group of men lingered, their laughter loud and their stares lingering too long. She resisted the urge to place a hand on the hilt of her blade and instead spoke low enough for only her companion to hear.

“This town smells of trouble. Keep your head down."