"So, we will walk, huh."
"For six hundred kilometers in a straight line."
Luke and I exchanged horrified looks. Meanwhile, the old man before us just smiled.
"But you'll reach the capital."
"Maybe next year," I murmured in disappointment.
"But you will get there."
I heard Luke mutter something about how ironic it was that this happened just after we were feeling so inspired. When I was about ready to throw in the towel and give up on everything, Luke grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the humble villager we'd been talking to just a moment ago.
"It can't really be six hundred kilometers."
"You're right, but even so, it's a long way. So long that even the poor villager seems confused."
