The autumn wind was gentle.
On the boundless golden-yellow prairie, countless wild grasses waved like the manes of majestic lions, creating ripples with the wind.
In the distance, the mountains rose and fell unceasingly, a continuous stretch of gray-black.
Between the barren prairie and the mountains was a transitional area that gradually turned from yellow to black. A lone traveler rode a chestnut horse, slowly making his way through the grasses of the prairie.
The constant clip-clop of the horse's hooves could be heard as the rider, dressed in white, with a black Longsword on his back, appeared to be around thirty, with a small mustache that added an air of steadiness and solemnity.
"Once past this prairie, I'll be entering Le Fu territory..."
