Window decorated with beautiful peacock tails, openwork signs with gilded floral inscriptions, delicate open-top carriages coming and going, gentlemen in calfskin boots, long-tailed velvet felt hats, and long-breasted blouses decorated with silk ribbons and delicate lace, and ladies in high buns, flowing feather ribbons, and wide tufts decorated with beautiful lace pleats and bows.

Everything on this bustling street gives a strong sense of exoticism that makes people intoxicated.

Carl was eager to stop and take a good stroll through this medieval street. But looking at the sun gradually setting in the west, and feeling the empty pockets of clothes, I had to endure this temptation and continue to move forward.

"No. 3 Alfalfa Avenue, near the outer gate of the business district, the corner of gladiolus bend, the copper kettle tavern, old Tom!"

Carl wasn't looking for the tavern aimlessly, he pulled out a piece of useful information from the original owner's memory.

It was when the original owner was a teenager, in the tavern of his hometown, he heard an old blacksmith in the town brag that he had also mixed out outside when he was young, and he was still in the famous Silver Dawn mercenary group, and followed the old leader to participate in several legendary battles, until he was hit by an arrow in the knee and could not go to the battlefield, then he returned to his hometown to become a blacksmith.

Carl didn't know whether the old blacksmith's bragging story was true or false, but the old blacksmith was indeed a person with a story, compared to other residents who had lived in the town all their lives, the old blacksmith knew a lot of outside knowledge, especially for the travel process, how to prepare luggage, how to buy supplies to save money, how to tell whether the ale wine was adulterated, how to distinguish between a black shop and a regular hotel, how to negotiate when meeting a tax officer, etc., very experienced.

As a child, the original had not had a pleasant time in his family, preferring to spend time with the commoners of the realm who were called inferior, rather than the members of the clan who rejected him.

The original body heard a lot of good stories from the old blacksmith, and many of them were stories that the old blacksmith had personally experienced. According to the old blacksmith who was drunk and muttered at one point, the last battle he participated in in the mercenary group was very tragic, and thousands of them were blocked in a valley, desperately rushing to kill, and countless people died before they broke out of the encirclement.

Most of the old blacksmith's comrades were killed and wounded in that battle, and only two of their squadron survived, and finally the old blacksmith who was shot in the knee returned home disheartened. Another surviving comrade-in-arms stayed in the "Silver Tide City", took over a tavern, and lived a peaceful life.

Because when the old blacksmith told this story, he was drunk and drunk, and he was rarely drunk, and he had a fight with the people who laughed at him that the stories were fake. So Carl's original body has a deep memory, and by the way, he wrote down the names of the Silver Tide City, the Copper Kettle Tavern, and Old Tom.

As for the old blacksmith's character, Carl felt that he could still be trusted, so he decided to try his luck at this copper kettle tavern first.

After passing through a thick wall with tall battlements and towers, Carl finally made his way to the lower part of the Silver Tide City.

It's a very messy town, very different from the clean and tidy Upper Town. The roads here are neither paved with granite as in the inner city nor neatly paved with bluestone slabs as in the commercial area, but are paved with a layer of crushed stone and cobblestones.

And compared with the neat, straight and wide streets of the upper city, the streets here are also messy, horizontal, oblique, intersections, triangular intersections, and all kinds of intersecting streets seem to open up half at will, full of a free-spirited and willful atmosphere.

The same is true of the buildings lining the streets, a low, two-story bungalow beside a Gothic tower with a high pointed arch, a neat and beautiful square at the end of a narrow alley, and a dilapidated, crumbling shack and thatched hut across from a cluster of shiny and beautiful shops.

Tall and low, glamorous and dilapidated, neat and messy, such different styles are presented together in this urban area, making this urban area feel particularly messy and chaotic.

It's noticeably livelier than the business district, with horse-drawn carriages laden with goods passing through the driveway, wheels creaking against the ground, street vendors and housewives haggling, crowds of people even drowning over church bells, and crowds of people passing through the traffic, their colourful hair becoming the most conspicuous signs.

Obviously, the downtown area of the Silver Tide City is a free and messy place, where travelers from all over the mainland gather in addition to the enthusiastic and unrestrained natives, who dress in a distinctly different style from the locals, but walk here without any unnaturalness.

Karl asked for directions, and under the guidance of a zealous aunt, he turned a corner at a horn-like three-way intersection, and soon found the Copper Kettle Tavern.

The Copper Kettle Tavern is prominently located at the entrance to an alley with a huge olive tree at the door—its rough bark and cracked trunk, suggesting that it has been very old.

The tavern looked as old as the olive tree, with a layer of turquoise moss growing from the gray walls, thick oak doors, half blackened by smoke, and a brass kettle sign firmly nailed to the iron frame with thick iron nails.

Business in this tavern seems to be good, and every now and then someone pushes the door out, or goes in. Just before Carl, a young girl in a white shirt and black dress walked in.

Carl followed the dark-haired girl into the tavern.

The dimly lit space, the noisy atmosphere, and the strong smell of barbecue and ale come to your face.

Suddenly stepping from the bright space into a dim environment, Carl couldn't help but squint his eyes and get used to it before he could see the environment clearly.

It's a typical pub layout, with a bar counter not far from the entrance and a long row of wooden stools in front of a thick oak counter. A few drunkards, dazed, were lying on the counter talking happily while gulping down ale.

The bar was dimly lit, the windows were nailed with thick planks on all sides, and apart from the carved partitions at the top of the corner staircase, only the oil lamps hanging in the hall gave the tavern a dim light.

As in most taverns, the chairs in the hall are arranged in a very clever way to improve the use of space, and along the walls of the four walls, there are also long rows of wooden planks, and a row of high chairs are placed in front of the wooden boards.

So, the impression that this bar gives Carl is not only dim, but also crowded.