"Swords on rent! Take the good ones or fake the shiny ones!"
"Tired from your long journey or planning for one? Take our long-lasting sandwiches with water and a fire-proof wrapper!"
The market bustles with the sounds of shopkeepers and the heavy footsteps of city guards patrolling near the massive gates that provide a way to pass through the city border.
Several paces away from the gates, a carriage comes to a halt.
Richard is the first one to exit, followed by the opening of the passenger cabin door as Zane steps out too.
"How lively..."
He stretches his body, the stiffness gathering in his hips and back, making him arch his body for several seconds.
Richard approaches him while rubbing a dry cloth over his face and calls him over, "We have finished one part of our journey. I hope you enjoyed the ride."
He ignores the dirty glance that comes from Zane after hearing his words and continues while pointing toward one of the guards standing at the gates.
"We will need to verify ourselves separately to pass through those gates. Since I am delivering a corpse, it might take longer for me to get the carriage and my documents checked by them. So..."
"Ugh..." Zane raises his hand and groans once before stepping forward. "I know. I can verify myself on my own. Just don’t make me wait longer!"
Ignoring Richard afterward, he scans the faces of the guards and chooses the one with a gentler face. Fumbling into the pocket of his trousers, he pulls out his identity badge first.
The guard notices him and straightens his posture.
"Present your identity proof. And keep it quick."
...
Fortunately, the inspection doesn’t require him to pull out his admission letter. He doesn’t want to complicate the process anyway. Though, during the carriage inspection, they do check his simple bag of clothes and necessities.
Just as the inspectors pull away from the carriage, Richard and Zane meet together again.
"Damn... they are strict every time. Though, I have gotten used to it now."
"You deliver corpses all the time?" Zane asks while packing his bag properly again, as the clothes have been scattered from the earlier checking.
Richard taps his foot against the wheels one by one, looking out for any problems. Then, he nods.
"Hm... kind of."
Just when Zane throws his bag inside through the carriage window, a sound, sharp as if the air is being disturbed near him, reaches his ear.
The sound is familiar to him. He has heard it many times after coming to this world.
His head snaps suddenly toward Richard, then he lunges at him. "Step aside!"
Richard, still busy with his work, doesn’t notice anything amiss, but just when Zane yanks him toward himself, a blur of a sword tip passes through the space where his shoulder had been.
Rolling down the path is a carriage, different from everything that he has seen until now. Dark red banners hang from it, a large cabin sits in the middle, and the carriage is pulled by horses that look twice as large as normal horses.
Walking in formation around it are knights clad in silver-red armor, with an insignia on the chestplates of their armor.
The sword that almost touched Richard just now belongs to one of the knights walking parallel to the carriage on an armored horse. Though, despite the disruption caused by Zane during his strikes, he doesn’t react at all.
Zane, meanwhile, fumes, his rage directed toward the knight. He tries to take a step forward toward his horse instinctively but is blocked by Richard’s grip on his wrist.
"Don’t..." Richard shakes his head with a slightly helpless smile as he watches the entourage moving past them. "He wasn’t trying to injure me."
"What? If I hadn’t pulled you back, you would have probably lost your arm to his blade!" Zane snaps at him, pulling his wrist away from him, though he gives up on his effort to move toward that knight.
The carriage and its escort pass through the gates with just a single glance from the head knight to the gate guard.
With a final glance at his vehicle, Richard turns toward him properly and gestures inside.
"That’s the point. He didn’t bother wasting his time asking me to step aside in words, so he used you, assuming that you would move me anyway. Now, let’s go. We can continue our journey."
The explanation only works to irritate him even more. The thought that his actions were predicted before he had even processed what was happening is a direct hit to his self-esteem.
But he knows that there is nothing he can do against that knight yet. That man didn’t even spare him a glance after doing that. And it doesn’t take a genius to know that this conveyance belongs to something more powerful and mysterious than he can comprehend.
They continue moving again. Just the atmosphere inside the cabin has changed somewhat.
He sits rigidly on his seat, not even noticing how his foot is completely pressed against the corpse’s side. His mind struggles to process the information he just gained. Taking deep breaths, he sets this encounter aside for now.
I have too much on my hands already. I cannot waste my energy on this yet. But...
A doubt tugs at his mind for some reason. What if he hadn’t moved to push Richard away? Even if that knight calculated his reaction, what if his calculation had failed? Would Richard have escaped that strike then? Is that knight capable of pulling away his sword at times?
While these questions haunt him, the view outside the carriage changes.
The developed buildings and structures that make up the view inside the city disappear, replaced by small shops and houses that stretch far into the distance.
Feeling the change in the surroundings, he glances outside the window. Roads are still here, but they lack the same quality as the ones that exist in the city. He recognizes this detail immediately.
The Wayfair town... it divides the capital and Redwater City.
The difference surprises him inwardly. His eyes rake over the stores and the pedestrians.
To think that on one side of the town is a developed city and on the other side is a capital... It’s like a transition between different worlds.
The town is simple enough, so the things here don’t surprise him much. Leaning back against his seat, he pulls a handkerchief over his face and closes his eyes.
A nap will relax my mind...
Soon, his breaths even out as he drifts into sleep.
The continuous sways and occasional jerks are the only things he senses faintly during his sleep, until an unusually large jerk almost makes him kiss the corpse.
"Fuck!"
He holds his hands tight against either side of the corpse and quickly stabilizes himself. He successfully saves himself from the potential trauma.
Looking out at the window, his eyes open wide as he takes in the sight.
His brain struggles to adjust to his present surroundings.
They have finally reached the Capital. Or at least the entrance to it.
What catches his eyes first is the large golden banner hanging from the top of those massive gates, or rather, the fort.
Painted on that banner is the silver outline of a map. He has to focus on it to make out the vague lines and curves of the map. He recognizes the Capital in it, since it is especially highlighted there, and from that direction, he finally makes out his own city too.
"That’s the whole kingdom’s map..."
Suddenly feeling excited by the display, he steps out of the carriage and glances over the road.
Then, to the border walls which seem to curve around the Capital, though making out the complete structure is hard from his view right now.
The importance of this place is reflected by its display of strength and grandeur. But there’s something else that excites him more than this.
His fists clench tight at his sides and he stares into the distance, through the open gates of the Capital.
The Silverfang Citadel... I am very close to it.
The academy sends a different kind of thrill through his body. He wouldn’t just stare after reaching it; he might even have to act there.
"How much longer now, Richard?"
Richard, standing behind him, hums once and nods. "Not too far, but it will still take some time. However... the boring part of the journey is over now."
Just as he finishes his words, a horn blows at the front, high enough to be heard by them and low enough not to disturb the place around them.
The man who blows the horn waves at them and calls over.
"Your turn! Come here!"