Myrtle did not disappoint.

  By the next morning, she had fulfilled Tars's request, filtering through the options to present three potential locations for him to choose from. Since the offer was too generous to decline, Tars grudgingly agreed to hop in a carriage for a tour. Rodrigo had originally wanted to join them, but Tars had politely refused.

  The clever maid, Daisy, understood the situation perfectly and executed Tars's will with precision. She specifically arranged for a low-profile carriage from the manor, one that lacked the Starry Family crest. Tars lounged in the corner of the carriage with his usual lack of decorum, accompanied only by Myrtle.

  He glanced at the red-haired woman sitting upright across from him, noting that she seemed weighed down by heavy thoughts.

  "It seems the trip to the fortress was not as smooth or pleasant as Rodrigo claimed," he remarked.

  The comment startled her. The red-haired woman adjusted her expression, though a hint of exhaustion remained in her eyes. Faced with Tars's teasing, she hesitated for a moment before replying.

  "Young Master Rodrigo is a man who seeks peace. His life of privilege has saddled him with many rules and high standards, but he does not chase after vanity for its own sake. He would far rather be a wizard like you, focusing entirely on the wonders of spellcraft—it is simply a pity he lacks the talent for it."

  "Yet, he is forced to face things he dislikes: the awkward position of heir-apparent, a brother who seems healthy but could pass away at any moment, and a third brother who is openly hostile toward him..." she whispered.

  Tars adjusted his arm, which he was using as a pillow, and glanced up at her. "These sorts of things aren't usually discussed so freely, are they?" he asked.

  The red-haired woman fell silent. "I hope you will support Young Master Rodrigo," she said. "He is a kind man. He resists, yet he strives to fulfill the duties expected of his station. Often, these are not the things he truly wants."

  Tars smiled. "We are friends—I have always said this. If trouble befalls a friend, I will naturally help."

  The red-haired woman seemed to have more to say but bit her tongue; she clearly wasn't entirely sure where Tars stood. In the end, she let it go. The two shifted the conversation back to the kobold wizard's new home.

  The wheels creaked along the road. Tars could already smell the atmosphere of the Outer District—it wasn't just the odor of the city, but the savory scent of home-cooked meals. In a word, it smelled like life. Unlike the Inner District, where the nobles lived in mansions or manors behind vast courtyards that hid their inhabitants from view, the Outer District was vibrant; from the street, one could hear the joyous clamor of children in the houses nearby.

  "This first location is the one that best meets your requirements," she explained carefully. "It is one of the cleanest and most high-end streets in the Outer District and is relatively quiet, situated right at the junction of the Inner and Outer zones. Young Master Rodrigo was concerned that you might need to experiment with spells, so he specifically selected this property because it includes a reinforced basement. You can use it with peace of mind."

  As she spoke, she watched Tars's expression with caution.

  "Please thank Rodrigo on my behalf," he said with a smile. "It sounds perfect. I think we won't need to visit the other two locations."

  The carriage began to bounce and jolt. Even though this was one of the better areas of the Outer District, the details still differed significantly from the noble enclaves of the Inner District. After some intermittent jostling, the carriage finally pulled up to a small property.

  The courtyard was tiny—hardly big enough to squeeze in two carriages—and possessed a sickly, crooked tree that seemed to be struggling to survive, twisting itself into a rather grotesque shape.

  Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

  "I will send someone to trim it later..." Myrtle offered.

  "No need. It's perfect. Not everything needs to be perfectly orderly," he said, pushing open the gate and walking inside.

  As he wandered about, he noticed through the details that no one had lived here for some time. This was ideal; he had been worried that Rodrigo might use the Starry Family's influence to forcefully evict someone just to curry favor with a wizard.

  The house had three floors, but it was smaller than the two-story cabin he had occupied at the manor. After walking through the ground floor, he stepped back out.

  "I am very satisfied." The kobold's face beamed with a genuine smile.

  The house had been clearly cleaned, likely in conjunction with the reinforcement of the basement, and it was ready for move-in. Seeing he was pleased, Myrtle looked relieved. "I am glad Lord Tars is satisfied. I will have Daisy and the others finish setting up; you should be able to move in by tomorrow."

  "No need to go to such trouble. I'll stay here starting today."

  Tars looked around the courtyard, eyeing that ugly, man-sized tree with growing appreciation. Myrtle thought for a moment, then produced a metal tag the size of a palm and handed it to Tars with both hands.

  "I will record the transfer. With this tag in your possession, you are the master of this house," she said. "I shall return now to have Daisy and the others sent over. You should be able to enjoy your lunch here."

  Tars nodded with a smile. He watched the efficient red-haired woman climb back into the carriage and drive away at speed—the ride back would surely be much bumpier than the one here.

  He stood in the courtyard alone, looking left and right. The only drawback was that while the houses were detached, they were packed tightly together, some nearly touching. His place was, fortunately, one of the better-spaced ones.

  He unlocked the door, opened the living room to let the air inside, and dragged an old recliner into the open space. There, he laid down and began reading a book on spell-scripting. The house and courtyard were small, and the wall was only waist-high; while reading, he could catch glimpses of shadows and pedestrians passing by.

  It was unexpectedly relaxing. He felt a sense of familiarity wash over him.

  Before he knew it, a gentle drowsiness began to creep in. He didn't resist; instead, he covered his face with the book and drifted off to sleep on the recliner. With people constantly walking by, he couldn't fall into a deep sleep, but the atmosphere was exceptionally peaceful.

  He remained in that half-dreaming, half-waking state for an unknown amount of time, aware of the shifting light but unwilling to wake.

  Until the courtyard gate was pushed open.

  A small figure appeared before him. He opened his eyes, and the little one stared back. After a moment of silence, he abruptly pulled the book from his face, revealing his kobold snout. The little one let out a sharp cry of fright.

  "Mister, you're so cool! Your teeth are so sharp!" the young boy's eyes sparkled.

  Tars looked down to see a small, brown-lidded basket. The boy, seemingly having remembered something important, blinked his large eyes and labored to hand the basket to Tars.

  "Mister, this is a gift for you. I live right next door. Can I come back and play with you? Your ears are also very pretty," the boy said, frequently veering into strange topics. "My mom made these—they're still hot. They're the best flatbreads ever, and each one has chunks of meat from a cavern beast in it. Please don't be shy; Mom said that people moving in might not have time to make lunch."

  Tars couldn't help but chuckle at the little fellow. He sat up on the recliner and took the basket the boy had been holding up for so long.

  He opened the lid and found several flatbreads, each as thick as a palm and larger than his entire face. He took one—it was still steaming. One side was golden-brown with a few charred spots, while the other revealed bits of meat peeking out from the dough.

  "Thank you, and please thank your mother for me."

  Under the boy's expectant gaze, he took a massive bite, leaving a large gap in the bread. "It tastes excellent," he said while chewing.

  "Your teeth really are amazing," the little boy said, his eyes darting between the bread and Tars's mouth.

  A carriage slowly pulled up to the gate. Daisy and three servants stepped out and began unloading supplies. Tars patted the boy's head. He noticed that Daisy had changed into a set of plain, modest clothes, far different from her attire at the manor.

  "Mr. Sharp-Teeth, I have to go. If I stay too long, Mom will scold me," the boy said. "She told me not to bother you."

  After finishing his sentence, the boy offered a surprisingly formal salute and turned to run out. Tars walked to the gate, munching on the bread, and waved goodbye to the boy. He was already thinking about what Daisy could send back as a return gift.

  As he scanned the street, he noticed someone moving into the house next door as well—a young lady, who appeared to be a transcendent.