Zed and the woman reached what seemed to be the outskirts of the town. His eyes drifted over her simple, practical attire. She wore a plain dress made of faded fabric, the kind that would stand up to hard work without drawing attention. The dress was loose and functional, cinched at the waist with a belt. Over it, she wore an apron, clearly designed for the same purpose—to shield her clothing from dirt and wear. Her hair was neatly tied back in a no-nonsense bun, there was no jewelry, no frills, nothing to mark her as anything other than someone who is used to labor.


    Zed, was acutely aware of the stark contrast between his appearance and hers. His own clothing, while durable, was much more advanced—more akin to something a traveler from another world might wear. The fine, sleek materials and designs of his suit would undoubtedly attract attention. Something that he doesn’t want, at least not yet.


    A wave of subtle energy coursed through him, and in an instant, his appearance shifted. The fine materials of his suit melted away, replaced by the rough, sturdy fabrics of a common worker’s garb. His boots became practical leather shoes, worn from use but still serviceable. His shirt morphed into a simple, faded linen tunic with rolled-up sleeves, easy to move in, his outerwear was now replaced by something more utilitarian, designed for function rather than flair. Ai’s voice hummed softly in the background, You’re now properly disguised. You should blend in seamlessly.


    Zed gave a mental nod, Ai added, If we need to adjust further, I can make alterations if we see how other people looked.


    Zed took a moment to look over his new attire. The transformation was complete, and he now appeared as though he had been traveling for some time, a common laborer rather than someone who might have fallen from the sky. The woman, unaware of the changes happening, glanced over at him with a hint of surprise but didn’t comment. She didn’t seem to notice anything unusual about his now-modified appearance. “You look different now,” she said with a quick glance. “More like one of us. You’ll fit in better that way.”


    Zed gave a small nod, “I’ll try not to stand out.”


    As they continued their walk along the edge of the town, the sounds of distant chatter grew louder, signaling that they were getting closer to the heart of the settlement. The first hints of smoke were in the air, and Zed’s senses heightened in response to the unfamiliar atmosphere.


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Zed continued walking beside the woman, now looking the part of a simple traveler or laborer rather than an alien figure in a distant land. The town, with its mix of old and new, began to show the early signs of industrialization creeping outward from its core. The familiar hum of progress was in the air, but it was still faint, as if the town was holding onto its rural roots just a little longer.


    The woman walking beside him, seemed absorbed in her thoughts. As they entered the town proper, Zed’s eyes locked onto the source of the smoke he had seen earlier. It wasn’t the kind of smoke you’d expect from a factory or a bonfire. It was from something else. It was already contained but some flames flickered from several houses. Definitely, the damage were signs of something.


    Zed maintained his neutral expression "Was there an attack?" Emilia''s eyes flicked nervously to the horizon, where the smoke still rose in ominous tendrils. Her hands tightened around the fabric of her cloak, as if seeking comfort in something, anything.


    "Yes," Emilia confirmed with a brief nod. "As you can see, we''re in a bit of a predicament. The Count and his army came a few weeks ago demanding the unconditional surrender of my brother. Of course, nobody wants that so here we are.”


    Her words trailed off, and Zed could hear the weight of her frustration in the silence that followed. She turned her gaze toward the smoke again, and Zed followed her line of sight. The fire seemed to pulse, as if echoing the tension in the air.


    Zed observed the scene carefully—the destruction was precise. The houses bore the brunt of the damage, reduced to rubble and ash, while the palisades remained standing, their wooden frames largely untouched. Even the watchtowers, which should have been prime targets, showed little to no signs of structural failure. It was clear—whoever had attacked this settlement had done so with intent, deliberately targeting the homes rather than the fortifications. This wasn’t just an act of war; it was a message.


    "And this… bombardment is his way of pressuring you?"


    "Not just that," the woman continued, her voice growing quieter, but more resolute. "This destruction is not about surrendering. It’s about breaking us. Destroying everything my brother built. And when there’s nothing left, he’ll claim what he wants."


    Zed remained silent as he walked beside Emilia, matching her pace. Her expression was serious—borderline worried—while his was expectant, his gaze fixed on the town hall ahead. He had questions, and he expected answers once they arrived. As they approached, the townspeople cast furtive glances their way before hurriedly returning to their tasks, the tension in the air palpable.