Don't Want to Be Ordinary Even Though I'm an Extra Character

I continued my journey to the fortified city, leaving behind the forest and the darkness it harbored. The fresh morning air replaced the lingering stench of blood and smoke in my nose, bringing a faint sense of calm despite the storm of memories still churning in my mind.

The path to the city grew clearer as the trees thinned, giving way to small fields and scattered farmer's homes.

"Finally…" I muttered, gazing ahead at the massive stone walls rising in the distance. The city fortress. Its walls loomed high, with watchtowers at every corner. Even from this distance, I could see the royal banner fluttering atop the colossal gates.

This area was part of the Kingdom of Lotheris, one of the major realms in Warrior Destiny. The fortified city served as a hub for trade and a melting pot for people—wealthy merchants, hardened mercenaries, and everyone in between.

As I approached the gates, a long line of people came into view. Guards meticulously inspected each traveler, ensuring no threats entered the city. Merchants with carts full of goods, farmers bringing their harvest, and wanderers from various backgrounds queued patiently under the morning sun.

I joined the line, keeping a steady demeanor even though unease crept up my spine. This was my first time entering such a large city.

When my turn came, a stern-looking guard stepped forward. He wore simple leather armor and carried a long spear, his sharp eyes scanning me from head to toe.

"Name and purpose in the city?" he asked in a flat tone, but his piercing gaze suggested he missed nothing.

"Arkan," I replied quickly. "Just a traveler looking for work."

His eyes flicked to my small pack. "What are you carrying?"

"Some coins and personal belongings," I said, striving for an air of casual confidence. My bag held nothing suspicious, but my recent encounters in the forest had left me perpetually alert.

He nodded, waving me forward. "You may enter. Don't cause trouble in the city."

"Thank you," I said, stepping through the enormous gates.

Inside, the city's energy was overwhelming. Streets bustled with activity as people moved in every direction. Merchants shouted to advertise their goods, children darted through crowds, and patrolling guards moved with deliberate vigilance.

Most of the buildings were constructed from stone, their red-tiled roofs lending an air of stability to the chaos. In the city's center, I spotted a grand tower—likely an administrative or military hub.

I strolled through the throng of people, taking in the sights. This world… was larger and far more intricate than I had imagined.

Hunger gnawed at my stomach, pulling me back to reality. I glanced at the small pouch of gold coins I had taken from the bandits' stash. It would be enough for food and temporary lodging.

"I need to plan my next steps," I murmured, steering toward a small food stall nestled at the edge of the main street.

Walking through the fortress city evoked an odd sense of awe. In my previous life, I'd visited European tourist sites with preserved medieval architecture—old castles, cobblestone streets, and villages designed to replicate history. But this… this was entirely different.

Every corner of the city buzzed with authenticity. Merchants hawked their wares, blacksmiths hammered away at glowing steel, and children's laughter echoed down narrow alleyways.

The smells were almost intoxicating: burning wood from bakery ovens, roasting meat, spices, and cheap wine sold at roadside stands.

I approached a small food stall and ordered a bowl of soup. When it arrived, I stared at it: a steaming broth filled with chunks of meat and vegetables. It looked hearty, the kind of dish one would expect to rejuvenate a weary traveler.

I took a cautious sip, letting the warmth spread across my tongue.

…Nothing.

I frowned, taking another spoonful, searching for flavors. There was no salt, no depth, only the faint hint of overcooked meat lingering at the edge.

"Seriously?" I muttered under my breath. "Why does it look so good but taste like this?"

I bit into a piece of meat next, hoping for at least some satisfaction. While tender, it was flavorless. My modern palate craved seasoning, spices—something to elevate the dish. Instead, it felt like eating boiled blandness.

Perhaps my modern taste buds were too spoiled, accustomed to instant seasonings, sauces, and enhancements. The ingredients here might be fresh, but without refined cooking techniques or rich spices, the end result was disappointing.

I sighed heavily, resigning myself to the reality of this world. Disappointing or not, I needed to eat for the sake of survival.

Scooping spoonfuls of the uninspired soup, I paired them with the hard bread that came on the side. It felt like chewing on rubber, but I forced it down. Survival trumped flavor.

Finishing my meal, I handed a few coins to the kindly old woman running the stall.

"Thank you," I said, managing a small, polite smile.

Her face lit up. "Take care, young man! Don't forget to eat again later."

I nodded and walked away, stomach heavier but far from satisfied.

"Next step: find an inn…" I muttered.

The sun hung lower in the sky as I wandered through the city. Many inns dotted the streets, marked with colorful wooden signs and glowing lanterns. But after inquiring about prices at a few, I turned away each time, realizing my funds were too meager.

Finally, I stumbled upon a modest establishment tucked in a quieter part of the city. Its simple wooden sign read "The Edge of Town Inn." The building was unassuming but clean, and the air around it felt calm compared to the noisy main streets.

I stepped inside and was greeted by an old man seated at a wooden desk. He looked up with a kind but tired expression.

"Looking for a room?" he asked, his raspy voice friendly.

"Yes," I replied. "How much for a night?"

"Five copper coins. Comes with breakfast," he said.

I nodded, relieved it was within my budget. Digging through my pouch, I handed him the money.

"Room three, upstairs," he said, giving me a small key.

The room was tiny—a single wooden bed with a thin mattress and a small desk crammed into the corner. But it was better than sleeping outside.

I dropped my pack on the floor and sank onto the bed, releasing a long sigh. For the first time in what felt like forever, I could rest.

Yet my thoughts refused to quiet. From the horrors of the forest to the overwhelming city streets, everything felt like a test. This world wasn't the romanticized adventure I had once imagined. It was brutal, unrelenting, and even simple necessities like food or shelter were battles to be won.

But I had come this far.

"I can't stop now," I whispered to myself.

Lying back on the creaky bed, I stared at the cracked wooden ceiling above me. My body ached with exhaustion, but deep down, I knew rest was fleeting. This journey had only just begun.