Jett didn't do much with the reigns. Lord Joffrey did all the work. But if the chains went down, the bison would know to stop.
But at least he still held the reigns; having control only denoted the freedom to choose, not the necessity of actually using it.
And it was no grand fulfilling duty. The chilly winds slowly created icicles along the furs of Jett's hood. Lacking movement to generate body heat only expedited his frigid state.
As dusk fell upon the Valley, Jett was surprised to see that Corrupted Bison did in fact, not actually glow.
In fact, they blended in with the darkness too well. During the daytime, their translucent bodies appeared to reflect the light.
Though during the night, they were nearly completely invisible to the naked eye.
After a day's worth of travel, Jett estimated that they were around halfway between Strata and the Northwestern Vault named Obice.
'A good pace.'
Valeria tapped Jett's shoulder to signal him to halt.
He gradually pulled on the chains, telling Lord Joffrey to slow as he directed the bison towards the side of the road.
Heeding his commands, the bison ground to a halt.
"I'll set up the campfire. You set up the sleeping bag inside the wagon," Valeria ordered.
After doing so, Jett took a look around the Valley which was slightly illuminated by the moon; still, it was near pitch black.
The only things visible in the vastly flat plane were a few campfires far into the distance behind them, along with the lights of Strata.
But they happened to be the farthest down the road of any caravan; many merchants had begun to avoid the settlements West of the Mound. That left only official Stratan-owned supply lines to support the soon-to-be frontlines.
Lord Joffrey, knowing that the party would stop for the night, began to refuel as he bent his neck downward to consume the Valley's grass.
"Rest up," Valeria ordered. "I'll take the rest of the night."
'Fine by me.'
The inside of the wagon was wide enough to not only fit crates of supplies but also had enough space on the bed to fit a sleeping bag.
With his extremities nearly frozen and his mind groggy from boredom, Jett immediately entered the sleeping bag, slowly drifting to sleep.
***
…
…
…
'No nightmares tonight.'
No dreams either. Jett simply woke up the next day at sunrise.
"You up?" Valeria peered through the wagon cover.
Jett groaned in reply as he got up with a stretch.
"Got a lot more ground to cover."
'Can't wait."
…
Through a similar series of events, they got back to top speed in the Northwestern direction.
He had drunk water from an artifact and ate a few pieces of salt-preserved meats.
The new day was cloudy and a bit less cold, but with the winds, it was still ridiculously freezing.
Valeria returned to the comfort of the wagon, but it was still too early for her to sleep.
Jett looked all around, trying to observe his surroundings.
It was a real struggle trying to make out distant objects with a squint.
He tensed as a few caravans came towards their wagon from the direction of Obice, but nothing came of it.
The whole trip remained a monotonous drag. Though at least Jett got to see some cool sights.
…
In reality, Jett hadn't actually looked all around.
He scouted the front, the left, and the right.
But the one area he couldn't see that well was the back. Perhaps he was just confident in Lord Joffrey's speed, but mostly it was the inconvenience of looking behind.
Something was behind them.
He could feel a light rumbling. Not the rumbling of their wagon, but the rumbling of others.
It gradually increased until Jett slowly became alarmed.
"Jett!" Valeria yelled from the back of the wagon. "We have company!"
Jett stood up, chains in hand, as he looked over the top of the wagon.
…
Behind them was a pair of giant White Tortoises, their legs spinning with incredible speed as their massive box shells were perfectly stabilized.
Riding the shells of each tortoise were three men clad in steel armor, cloaks, and masks, weapons at the ready.
'Bandits? What are bandits doing this deep in Stratan territory? No… not bandits. Divine Crusaders? Stratans?'
White Tortoises were the dominant species in the Northern part of the Valley, as opposed to the Corrupted Bison of the South.
But these weren't Divine Crusaders.
As they slowly began to gain ground, the armor looked more like those of hired assassins.
They were being targeted.
'I'll figure their identities out after we survive this…'
No. He would kill them and find out.
Jett set the chains down gently so as to not give Lord Joffrey any signal other than 'run' before going inside the wagon.
He could see that the assassins were nearly in range.
'We need to fight now. What kind of weapons do they have? Could even be talismans and artifacts. If a powerful force is behind their commission, it wouldn't be surprising for them to have expensive weaponry.'
"Artifacts? Bows? What do we have?" Jett deliberated.
"Bow will be near obsolete at these speeds, and they're armored. We don't have any helpful artifacts," Valeria replied.
"Then what's the plan?"
"I can take one out with my Imprint if they get close…" Valeria replied.
Jett fidgeted with his jet-black talisman in anticipation, slowly watching the assassins get closer and closer.
Fear began to creep into his stomach. But it was a euphoric feeling; a concoction of apprehension and excitement.
He wasn't scared. Jett knew what he had to do. Only a fool wouldn't be afraid.
Giving everything wasn't easy. It was the hardest thing he could ever possibly do.
'No one said it would come easy…'
"I'll take the other then. Let them get close."
"What?" Valeria yelled. "How are you gonna take on three of 'em?"
"I can do it. Just make sure you slow down the wagon after."
Jett hurried to the wagon's front, standing atop the front seat as he watched the assassins approach.
They enemy was about two wagon lengths disjointed.
Then Valeria struck.
…
BOOOOOM…
A fiery explosion erupted from the wagon's left backside, enveloping the entire tortoise in the destructive force.
The wind quickly swept the smoke and ash away, the tortoise's shell entirely devoid of its three riders.
They were sent tumbling off as their tortoise reared off to the side.
But the second group of assassins on the right were directly parallel to the wagon.
While two had their swords ready, the one at the helm held something else.
A shining black orb.
'An explosive artifact…'
Jett quickly backed up as the black artifact in the assassin's hand began to glow slowly, his hand cocking backward, preparing to throw.
His muscles tensed as Jett got low to the ground
Soul burned in his legs, overwriting its frozen sensation.
Jett leaped across.
Time appeared to freeze as he soared through the air, daggers at the ready.
This was everything.
THUD.
BOOOOOM.