Hours eventually ticked into days, and after what felt far longer than it could have been, they reached the singular trail of Ezra's Path. Following it, the bleak desolation that had plagued their view was exchanged for a scenery of scattered countryside buildings.
They had reached the far outskirts of the Byzeth Kingdom.
Byzeth was one of the thirteen kingdoms under the sovereignty of the Valerian Empire. Although it was significantly the smallest, and not the strongest in military power, the kingdom thrived as a business capital.
Byzeth was a trade hub in Valeria, seemingly producing every in-demand commodity. It was a staple in the empire's trade market.
The kingdom was an important asset to the Empire, and even if removed from the empire's sovereignty, the kingdom could still thrive on its own, having built a system of self-sustainment.
These were the reasons the Byzeth king had grown cocky. However, it was far from enough to contemplate rebellion against the empire without expecting death as the end result.
Aszer Hait, the Byzeth king, was rumored to have broken into the realm of Martial Master, the fifth realm of cultivation. He was now a man capable of opposing a thousand single-handedly. This strength is what had tempted the greedy king into considering rebellion, but even then, that too, was still far from enough to execute such a plan.
Such cultivation was basic among the members of the imperial squad, let alone the Valerian Emperor, who, rumors say, had reached a realm where he now grappled with divinity.
Aszer knew opposition by himself was impossible, so he planned to collaborate with those he knew stood a chance against the Valerian Sovereignty—the Northrenders. By forming a trade alliance, Aszer saw it as a window to offer them more: conquest.
"We're finally here…" Serina sighed, looking out the window at the rolling hills as they moved through a field.
"Should we ride straight to the capital and give the king a piece of our mind?" Lerai offered humorously.
"Yeah, if our goal is to see how fast we can get killed, we should definitely do that," Serina huffed lightly.
"We'll set camp at Midgard Province. It's close to the capital and serves as the main dock for all trade routes to the north. This is important."
Serina turned to Aric after he spoke. "I'm guessing you've conjured an entire plan to take down this kingdom's government with only three people?"
"I have something in mind," Aric assured.
---
The carriage pulled through the final stretch of its journey, entering Midgard Province. Buildings were no longer scarce; they lined every corner of the cobblestone streets.
This place was a far different setting from the Imperial City, but it seemed just as populated.
Each building served some business purpose or another. The walls were smooth stone lined with skillfully carved wood, giving the town a communal feel. The streets were busy, even during the late hours of sundown as they rode in.
Every part of the street was lined with vendors bargaining with patrons, or bustling establishments filled with customers. Taverns, brothels, and restaurants were everywhere, yet all were lit and buzzing with activity.
Even as the sun was sinking below the horizon, it seemed, for the people of this province, as though their night had only just begun.
Soon enough, their carriage passed through the central district, and the buildings began to look less like businesses and more residential. This was where they would make their stop.
The carriage came to a halt. The horses, having pushed through for days with only a few hours of rest in between, bent their knees and collapsed to the ground, relieved of their burden.
They exited the carriage, Aric glancing around in an attempt to ensure they were in the right place.
"Where to now?" Lerai inquired, dusting himself off and stretching after spending hours in the confined carriage.
"There," Aric pointed to a building not too far away. "If we're lucky, old man Hitoki should own it at this time."
"Old man Hitoki?" Serina glanced at Aric with a curious look.
"Yes, an old friend of mine…" Aric's tone was reminiscent as he turned to the carriage driver and the guard. "Secure the horses and meet us over there," he instructed, pointing to the building while sharing a look with Alan.
"Yes, Your Highness," both men replied, watching Aric lead Serina and Lerai away.
The building stood far from others erected around the area, and unlike the bustling establishments at the district, it looked more like a home. It was built from brick rather than polished stone, and it didn't have the same consumerist energy.
Aric pushed open the door, and the group of three entered. Their figures, cloaked and pale from the long journey, moved cautiously. Serina and Lerai were weary from travel, while Aric had pushed himself too hard fighting bandits, his illness making it a close call.
They walked into a living room, the sound of crackling wood from the fireplace immediately reaching their ears. The smell of burning logs mingled with a unique scent they couldn't quite place, though it felt familiar to Aric.
Chairs made of soft hide were arranged around the room, and the wooden floor was covered with rugs.
The night had brought a chill outside, but here, the warmth felt like a comforting hold against the cold.
"Who are you… and why did you barge in here?"
A man walked out from a passage. His hair was white, and his wrinkles told of a man well on his years, yet he moved with surprising vigor.
"Old man…" Aric muttered, a slight sadness in his voice.