Modern Weapons Cheat in Fantasy World-Chapter 5: Heading to the City

"Sir Marcus...Sir Marcus."

Marcus’s eyes fluttered open as he heard a voice calling his name. It was blurry at first but the moment it got cleared, he saw the face of Vance.

"We are moving out now," he informed him.

Marcus pushed himself up on one elbow. The wool blanket slid off his chest. The air was cold against his skin.

It was still dark, but the eastern horizon carried a faint orange line beneath the trees.

Dawn.

He sat upright fully and rubbed his face with both hands.

He swung his legs over the side of the mat and pulled his boots on. The ground was damp. Dew clung to the edges of the woven fibers beneath him.

Across the clearing, the camp was already being dismantled.

One man kicked dirt over the dying embers of the fire. Another rolled up canvas sheets with quick, practiced motions. Bedrolls were strapped and secured. The broken wagon wheel used as cover last night was lifted and tied back to its axle.

Marcus reached for his rifle.

He checked the magazine by touch and every equipment he had on. Not a single piece was touched by them.

They were really trustworthy. If they weren’t, he would have been killed in his sleep.

And also, he was really in another world. He thought it would be just like a dream where he would wake up back in his house, staring at the ceiling with his phone buzzing beside him.

With that, they resumed their journey back to the city of Berm.

The wagons rolled forward one by one, wheels cutting through damp soil. The horses moved slower than yesterday. They could still smell blood somewhere behind them.

Marcus was inside the carriage along with Ivan and Leila.

"How long until we reach the city?" he asked.

"It’ll take about three to four hours. No need to worry since from this road forward, there’d be no monsters. If there are, it’ll be a weak one."

Marcus nodded upon hearing that and turned his eyes to Leila. He still couldn’t believe that in another world, there are really demi-humans that were always depicted in the light novels and anime.

She noticed his gaze and her cheeks blushed from shyness.

"Anyways, the moment you reach the city gates, please don’t say anything. There is a strict inspection in the gates where if you don’t have identification, you could be barred from entering the city," Ivan said.

"Really?" Marcus asked.

Ivan nodded.

"Berm is not a frontier town. It is walled, regulated. The guards do not allow armed strangers to simply walk in."

Marcus leaned back slightly against the wooden wall of the carriage.

"And what counts as identification?"

"A guild tag. A merchant seal. A noble crest. Something official," Ivan replied. "I have documentation for myself and my caravan. Vance and his men carry adventurer insignias. Leila is registered under my employ."

Leila straightened slightly at that.

"And me?" Marcus asked.

Ivan studied him for a moment.

"You will be under my protection," he said. "Officially, you are a contracted battlemage who assisted my caravan during an emergency."

Marcus didn’t react immediately.

"Battlemage."

"Yes," Ivan continued. "The fewer explanations we give about your... equipment, the better. The guards will not question visible magic. They will question unknown devices."

Marcus glanced down at the rifle resting across his lap.

"Should I conceal this?"

Ivan shook his head.

"If you hide it, they will demand to see it. If you present it openly and confidently, they will assume it is some form of magic staff."

Marcus considered that. "Okay, I will do as you advise."

Then the trip remained silent after that. Although Ivan would nag him about his origins, the clothes, et cetera that made him stand out in this world, he’d answer in a brief and vague way possible.

And after four hours, they finally reached the outskirts of the city.

Marcus looked out of the window and saw a wall as high as twenty meters, surrounded by a moat. He also saw carriages and caravans lining up in the bridges as the guards ahead conducted inspections.

This was it, the first city he’ll visit in a medieval fantasy world.

The line took long as the guards seemed to be meticulous and serious about their jobs.

Ten minutes later.

Marcus stepped down when Ivan signaled him. It was better to stand visible than remain inside like hidden cargo.

The caravan ahead of them was being inspected thoroughly. Guards checked under tarps, opened crates, even poked sacks with short spears. A man arguing too loudly was shoved aside and made to wait longer.

Ivan adjusted his collar and took out a folded parchment sealed with wax.

"Stand behind me," he murmured.

Marcus did.

He kept the rifle slung across his chest, both hands relaxed but visible. Finger off the trigger.

Leila remained inside the carriage but close enough to be seen.

When their turn came, two guards stepped forward. They were wearing steel caps, chaun shirts, and short swords at their hips.

"State your business," one of them said.

"Merchant Ivan of Berm," Ivan replied evenly. "Returning from southern trade."

Ambushed by ogres en route. Losses sustained."

The guard’s eyes shifted to the wagon behind them, where canvas covered the ogre corpses.

"Lift it," he ordered.

One of Vance’s men pulled the cover back.

The guards stared at the massive bodies for a moment. Even dead, they were imposing.

"You fought eight?" the guard asked.

"Eight," Vance answered flatly.

"That’s remarkable...who did that?"

The guard’s gaze moved to Marcus.

"That one," Vance said.

"This one?"

"A contracted battlemage," Ivan said without hesitation. "He intervened during the attack."

The guard stepped closer to Marcus.

Up close, Marcus could see stubble on the man’s jaw and a scar along his cheek.

"Hmm...doesn’t look like a man that could kill an ogre," the guard said, pointing at the rifle. "It’s unusual."

Marcus met his eyes. He was told to keep his mouth shut but he was being asked.

"Yeah, it’s my personal staff that I can only use."

The guard studied him a second longer.

"Very well, do you have any identification with you?"

"Uhm, guard," Ivan stepped in. "He is an adventurer from a foreign country. Unfortunately, he lost it during his journey and he plans of registering with the guild here in Berm. He has agreed to place himself under my guarantee until such time."

The guard’s eyes shifted from Ivan back to Marcus.

"Foreign," the guard repeated.

"Yes," he said simply.

"From where?"

Marcus paused half a second.

"West."

The guard narrowed his eyes.

"There are many lands west."

"I do not recall the exact name," Marcus answered, keeping his tone even. "I lost more than my identification on the road."

The guard held his gaze longer this time.

Then he looked at Ivan.

"You vouch for him?"

"I do," Ivan replied without hesitation. "His intervention saved my caravan and the lives of those who were on the journey. If he causes trouble, you may hold me responsible."

"Very well, but those who do not have an identification must pay 50 kinah for temporary entry," the guard said. "Valid for three days. If he fails to register within that time, he will be escorted out."

Ivan did not hesitate and pulled five silvers and handed them to the guard. He also paid for the caravan tax and other payments required for entry.

After that, the guards cleared them and they entered.