"Is it really necessary to resort to blood rose's royal blood? Have you considered other options?" Marcus inquires.

"While there are indeed other alternatives, none of them are as effective or efficient as this particular method," I respond.

"Understood. I won't question you further. I do comprehend the majority of what you have explained," Marcus acknowledges.

"What are your orders, Raphael?" Marcus asks.

"Ah, Raphael, I must say it is quite refreshing to be addressed by my name. The constant use of 'your highness' has always felt rather impersonal." I stated.

"Have you been able to communicate with my father regarding the previous matter?" I inquire.

"Yes. He has been informed and all necessary arrangements have been made. You simply need to present yourself before His Majesty," Marcus assures.

"Good. I will step outside momentarily to take in some fresh air and gather the latest news firsthand. Please inform me promptly if any unforeseen events occur," I state.

Using distortion magic, I assume my Alber identity once again.

"Yes, allow me to accompany you outside." Marcus says.

"Very well," I reply.

Marcus opens the door to the salon, politely waiting for me to exit so that he can accompany me. As we make our way towards the exit, we continue our conversation.

"It seems our conversation ends here. I'll see you later," I say.

"Until later, Raphael" Marcus bids farewell.

After spending a significant amount of time confined, the sensation of the wind against my body, coupled with the warmth of the sun and the fragrance of the city, proves to be remarkably invigorating. Mérida, with its unchanging beauty, captivates me just as it did when I first arrived.

There are a considerable number of people around; however, I fail to discern any specific topic that captivates my interest. After a bit of consideration, I contemplate visiting either a tavern or guild, as they typically provide up-to-date information. Considering proximity, I opt to proceed towards the tavern.

As I approach the tavern, I observe a significant gathering surrounding a pianist. After his performance concludes, I may take the opportunity to showcase my own skills and assess if my musical abilities remain intact.

"Excuse me, sir," a woman said.

"Is she talking to me?" I turn to my right and notice a woman, approximately 35 years old, standing and staring at me.

"Good morning, madam. Is there something you would like to discuss with me?" I inquired politely.

"What do you think about making a donation to the Church of Hope?" the woman said.

"You mean the Church of Hope? Could you elaborate?" I inquired further.

"Yes, sir. The Church of Hope is seeking donations to aid individuals facing difficult situations, such as food shortages or lack of shelter," the woman explained.

"I'm not interested. I have plans to personally assist those in need in the future, so donating to the Church of Hope doesn't align with my intentions," I responded.

"However, sir, the more you assist others, the better your karma will be. The God of Hope never forgets those who lend a helping hand," the woman insisted.

The god of hope uh.

"I assure you, I won't forget either," I said, providing a slight smile.

"Excuse me? What do you m..." the woman attempted to inquire, but I interrupted her with my words.

"I mean exactly what I said. I will help those in need myself, so rest assured, even without donating to the Church of Light, I will still perform good deeds. That being said, if you'll excuse me, I need to go test my music abilities." I say with a grin on my face.

The woman regarded me with disapproval. However, before she could utter another word, I swiftly headed towards the piano.

I guess her approach was to be expected. With my new identity as Alber Villarreal, my appearance gives off an air of nobility, and one would assume that someone of noble status possesses wealth.

I don't oppose donating to assist those in need. On the contrary, I value such acts. However, the Church of Hope only allocates 20% of the donated funds towards noble causes, while the remaining amount is utilized to enhance the churches and enrich themselves.

Ordinary individuals might not be aware of this, but I am, and it doesn't seem like the most suitable church for charitable donations.

"Excuse me, sir. May I have your permission to play the piano for a brief period?"

The man observes me closely, seemingly analyzing my abilities.

"Please show me your hands," the man requests firmly.

"Here you go," I reply, offering my hands.

"Hmm... You appear to have some knowledge of piano playing. I trust that I won't be disappointed, as musicians often support one another. Please proceed," the man agrees.

"Thank you, I assure you that you won't be let down," I say confidently, with a smile on my face.

"Let's see what you're capable of," the man expresses his curiosity.

Taking a seat on the piano bench, I quickly adjust my hands. Today, I believe I will perform "Benevolent Society" as it seems appropriate.

This is the moment, a profound sense of tranquility envelops me as I immerse myself in the music. The melodic tones, delicately slow and enchanting, captivate all those who hear it. With each note, my heart quickens, urging me to embrace this euphoria. Simultaneously, my skin tingles with a peculiar sensation - a manifestation of discovering a talent that exudes immense potential and renders all else mundane. Irrespective of one's mindset, the power of good music renders the mind blank, ensuring not a single note goes unnoticed.

As I conclude my performance, I hear the resounding noises of the crowd screaming for more. While I am left contemplating whether to fulfill their desires, I realize that I did it to satisfy my own artistic yearnings.

*There is a wave of loud cheering.*

"Remarkable talent, young man," complimented the man who had been present earlier, his smile radiant.

"I suppose it felt quite satisfying to me too," I replied, allowing a slight giggle to escape.

"Play again," one voice urged.

"Go for it, young sir," encouraged another.

"Show us more of your music," chimed in someone else.

"Keep playing," echoed yet another request.

"That experience was inexplicably calming. I must admit, they certainly know how to motivate someone," remarked the man with a content smile.

"If I were any more timid, I might be blushing right now. You're absolutely right," I replied with a smiling face.

"What do you think about performing at the 'Musical of Mérida'?" inquired a man stepping forward from the crowd.

"The 'Musical of Mérida'? Are you a talent scout, by any chance?" I asked in return.

"I suppose I needn't have said much. Yes, you're correct. We are constantly in search of new talents, and I must say, I have found one today. What are your thoughts on my proposal?" the man asked.

"A good proposal indeed, but I must decline. I am here visiting solely for business purposes and have no intention of staying much longer. I would consider your proposal more seriously if I were a resident here," I state.

Hmm, that is truly a shame, especially now that I thought I had found the one. However, here is my contact information. If you ever change your mind, you know who to call," the man says bidding farewell.

I watch the man going his way while thinking of all the things I still need to do.

"Well, thank you sir for letting me use your piano" I say.

There's no need for that, as I mentioned earlier, musicians always support one another. Just look at the audience you have gathered; I couldn't ask for more." The man replies, his face beaming with a smile.

"I promised not to disappoint you," I reply, with a light giggle.

"Well, I must bid you farewell. I hope your piano career progresses smoothly," I convey.

"It's a pity you're leaving so soon, but such is life. Take care, my friend," he says.

I smile, acknowledging his words, and turn away.

I overhear people discussing my departure. Such is always the way; nothing remains forever, and I am no exception. Nevertheless, thank you for listening to me; it brought me a little joy and reinforced my belief that I can strive for more. People often underestimate the value of constructive criticism, but it can indeed make a great difference.

I proceed towards the tavern, seeking to gather information on the latest news.

As I walk, I gaze at the sky and reflect that a day like today is perfect for a change of pace.

The tavern comes into view. It is a place where people are always boisterous, but I find no fault in that. It's good to have a few places where one can speak and act freely, without the need to conform constantly. Let's see how reliable the information gathered here is.

I step inside the tavern. People take notice of my presence, but swiftly return to their conversations. Though, as always, some continue to stare.

*loud talking*

I approach a table, pull out a chair, and sit, patiently waiting for the server. After roughly a minute, a lovely woman with copper brown hair approaches me.

"Good day, have you decided what you would like to order, sir?" the server asks.

I haven't made up my mind yet, but I request an ale since it seems to be the beverage of choice here.

"I'll have an ale for now," I reply.

"Have you seen him?

*No, I believe he is new here*

It seems people talk without realizing that others can hear them, or perhaps they simply don't care.

"One ale coming right up," the server assures me.

“What are your thoughts on the war in Barbuda? A man seated at a nearby table  inquires.

"In my opinion, Barbuda should surrender. Despite receiving assistance from other territories, it seems highly unlikely that they will emerge victorious at this stage," expressed a stout man seated at a nearby table.

Another individual chimed in, remarking, "If Barbuda surrenders, they will simply become another empire to be absorbed."

A war huh I guess it’s not uncommon for wars to exist but what is the opposite force that Barbuda is going against, I think to myself.

“The strong naturally absorb the weak that’s only natural. I cannot defend Barbuda; they were foolish to engage in the mass production of vampire blood," asserted a fellow patron.

Vampire blood? Could it be that... No, it couldn't possibly be Blood Rose, as they would have been absorbed long ago. It must be Pretória or Vladimino.

"The attendant approached with my beer in hand and stated, "Your ale is here, sir."

Curious about the outcome of the war, I questioned, "Who do you believe will prevail?"

Puzzled, the attendant responded, "Well, predicting the outcome of a war is challenging. However, from the start, Pretória was considered the likely victor. Even if Barbuda were to miraculously triumph, other vampire empires would undoubtedly lend their support. Out of all the foolish choices they could make, Barbuda ventured into mass producing vampire blood. Even a child knows the stupidity in that."

It made sense. Pretória ranked closely to Barbuda at 27th place, if memory serves me right. Nevertheless, vampires-by their very nature-are a formidable, warrior-like race, embracing the notion of fighting to survive and living to fight. Such is the common understanding.

“I agree, they’re for sure not the brightest crayons in the box” I remark, allowing a slight chuckle to escape while doing so.

The attendant gave me a quizzical look, as if contemplating the workings of my mind. I couldn't help but find amusement in the fact that I, too, was about to embark on an endeavor that may lack wisdom, though not to the extent of entertaining the idea of mass producing vampire blood.

"Well, sir, they surely displayed a lack of intelligence with their actions. If you'll excuse me, I must attend to other customers," the attendant politely excused herself.

As I watch her go, I contemplate my next move, considering my new destination: Pretória. I need to ensure a prompt departure to avoid being late for my return to Bragança.