Before setting out, Leon took Olivia to the villages of Lonka and Pleyton to inform the local officials about the emergency agency arrangements. It was crucial to ensure everything was in order before his departure.
---
The day of departure had finally arrived.
Leon was up early, his breath fogging in the cool morning air as he splashed water on his face. While scrubbing his face with a towel, he called out to Lina, reminding her to pack the essentials for his journey. This time, it wasn't an escape or a hurried leave. He was determined to prepare thoroughly, taking everything he might need for the road ahead.
Towels, toothbrushes, toothpaste, and all the little items that made life on the move bearable were carefully gathered. The rhythm of his routine was steady, deliberate.
As he dropped the damp towel into the water basin, Leon felt someone's gaze on him. He looked up, catching Lina's curious eyes fixed on his head.
"What is it?" he asked, touching his hair as if something might be out of place. "Is there something on my head?"
Lina shook her head, still staring. "No, Brother Leon. It's just... your hair color, it's different."
Leon raised an eyebrow, running his fingers through his bangs. "Different? It's the same brown it's always been," he said, slightly puzzled.
Lina grinned and pointed to the roots of his hair. "Look closely! It's not all brown anymore. Near the roots, it's turning black. I noticed it recently."
Leon's curiosity piqued. He asked Lina to fetch a small bronze mirror, and when she handed it to him, he pressed his bangs flat against his forehead, inspecting the hairline carefully.
Sure enough, about two centimeters from the roots, his once-uniform brown hair was darkening to a deep, striking black. It looked almost like it had been dyed, though the strands were naturally concealed by the rest of his hair.
"Huh," he muttered, setting the mirror down and grabbing a wooden comb to fix his hair. It didn't really bother him. Perhaps it was a quirk of the original owner's body, or some inherited trait in this world. It wasn't like he could just pop by a hospital to get it checked out, so he shrugged it off.
Leaving his room on the second floor, Leon could hear the bustling from the two adjacent guest rooms. Liam and Brandon were awake, gathering their gear for the trip. The sounds of armor clinking and preparations being made added a sense of urgency to the air.
Leon headed downstairs first, strapping on his armor, a combination of chain mail and leather, reinforced at key points. He carefully donned his arm and shin guards, ensuring that his shoulders, arms, and calves were well-protected. Over this, he threw on a large, hooded cloak to shield him from the unpredictable weather.
He glanced down at his outfit, feeling a bit like he'd stepped out of a storybook. A knight turned demon hunter, perhaps. If only it weren't so cumbersome to draw his sword from his back, he thought with a smirk. He'd love to cosplay as Jett.
Wearing full knight's plate armor for an extended journey would have been unwise. Even though the horses they were taking, Uriah noble steeds; were strong enough to carry a fully armored knight for long distances, it would still take a toll on their own stamina. For now, they would settle for more practical, lighter gear. However, Leon did pack Baron Kantadar's luxurious armor along with a black battle robe he particularly disliked. It wasn't for him but for Brandon, in case they needed to make a show of force by carrying Baron Casolas's banner.
The full knight's plate armor was too cumbersome for this trip. Instead, Leon left the rest of the heavy equipment under Olivia's care, safe back in the territory.
Leon, now armed and ready, slung his sword over his back and made his way to the stables. Hawk was already there, tending to the horses. Four horses had been prepared, three warhorses for them to ride and a fourth, a packhorse, loaded with supplies and fodder for the journey.
By the time Liam and Brandon had finished putting on their gear, which had them looking more like demon hunters than knights, the trio mounted their horses. Their mixed armor was practical, light, and perfect for the journey ahead. With a nod, they nudged their horses forward and rode out of the village.
The morning was still young, and the crisp air filled their lungs. Even though they'd risen early, the tenants of the village had been awake even earlier, already tending to the fields as the first light broke over the horizon. At the village's edge, Leon glanced back one last time. Ahead of them lay the open road, vast and uncertain, but he felt ready, more prepared than ever.
Every household, no matter their age, gender, or social status, was up early, already hard at work in the fields. The labor shortage had hit everyone hard, and it seemed the entire village was determined to make up for it. Men, women, and children bent over the soil, their movements synchronized as they toiled under the rising sun.
As Leon rode past, his gaze landed on Olivia. In the middle of the wheat field, her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, dirt smudging her hands. Despite the sweat on her brow, she looked up, spotted Leon, and straightened up to wave. There was something heartwarming about the way she smiled, a simple gesture of farewell that felt deeply personal.
Leon raised a hand in return, a soft wave back to Olivia, acknowledging her with a small nod. Then, without lingering any longer, he urged his horse forward, following Liam and Brandon as they rode over the hillside. The four horses trotted along the dirt path that snaked through the village and out into the open fields.
At the first fork in the road, they turned west. The path wound its way through dense woods, and as they passed through valleys and groves, the scenery suddenly expanded. Before them stretched rolling grass hills, bathed in the warm glow of the morning sun. The sky was a pristine blue, dotted with white clouds drifting lazily overhead. A few birds soared gracefully across the open sky, casting fleeting shadows on the ground below.
It was peaceful; remarkably so. There were no enemy soldiers lurking in the shadows, no fierce beasts stalking them from the woods. The tension that had gripped their lives recently seemed to have evaporated, replaced by the simple pleasures of an unhurried ride.
The dirt road stretched before them, winding through the landscape like a thread pulled from a tapestry. Leon's horse moved in a gentle rhythm, alternating between trotting and walking at a leisurely pace. The steady sway of the ride made him feel drowsy, and he found himself yawning more than once, lulled by the soft bounce of the saddle.
Conversation, once lively and animated, had quieted. No matter how many stories you share with your friends, there comes a point when words run dry. The three of them drifted into a comfortable silence, their focus shifting to the road ahead. Sometimes, silence between companions is the best kind of company; especially on a long journey.
Thanks to the swift horses they rode, Uriah's famed steeds; they reached their destination by midday. Their journey took them to the base camp of the Thorn Flower family, located in the town of Faloris. On the map, it was a small dot, but in reality, it held far more significance.
Faloris was an intriguing place, steeped in mystery. No one could quite agree whether the town had been named after the Thorn Flower family, or if the family had taken their name from the town itself. Either way, Faloris stood as a testament to generations of history and legacy.
Beyond the heart of the town, an outer district had been built, almost like a "castle town," serving as a buffer between the main city and the wilderness beyond. With a population approaching 10,000, it was far from small. While it couldn't rival the grandeur of Rolandar, Leon's original home, it was still a sizable settlement for its time. Villages surrounding the barony added even more people to the area, making it a bustling hub of activity.
As they approached the town's formidable stone walls; standing a proud eight or nine meters tall, they were stopped by the city guards. The captain of the gate, flanked by several soldiers, demanded the customary toll for entry, a practice strictly enforced by the territory's laws.
Leon, with a resigned sigh, reached for the leather pouch where he stored their documents. He handed the captain a neatly rolled parchment, which carried the mark of his knighthood. The captain carefully unfurled the document, his eyes widening slightly as he examined the lord's seal. His gaze shifted from the parchment to the three young men in front of him, clearly startled by their youth. But the seal was legitimate, and after a brief moment of hesitation, the captain bowed deeply in apology, signaling for the gates to be opened.
Leon exchanged a glance with Liam and Brandon. There was no need for a confrontation. They simply nudged their horses forward, passing through the gates as the guards lowered their heads in respect. It was one of the many privileges of nobility; unlike commoners, they didn't have to pay a toll or dismount from their horses to enter the town.
The streets of Faloris, however, were narrow and crowded. Despite the town's size, many of the buildings were newly constructed, their walls encroaching on what little space was left in the already cramped streets. The population was dense, and it was clear that this town had grown faster than it could comfortably handle.
When they reached the bustling market square, the situation became even more chaotic. Vendors shouted over one another, hawking their wares to passersby. Children darted between the stalls, their laughter mixing with the occasional argument over prices. The air was filled with a cacophony of sounds: quarrels, laughter, and the constant hum of people going about their day.
Yet with the noise came the smells. The pungent scent of livestock, the acrid tang of sweat, and the overpowering odors of the marketplace all mixed together in an assault on the senses. It was far from pleasant, and Leon found himself wrinkling his nose, trying to block out the worst of it. There was a certain charm to rural life, but this… this was something else entirely.
As they weaved through the maze of stalls and alleyways, Leon kept his eyes forward, determined not to linger on anything too questionable. The crowded streets reminded him uncomfortably of the public toilets back in Rolandar, places best forgotten, if possible.
Compared to this, the open air and fresh scents of Selvana village felt like paradise.
At least in the open countryside, the wind carries the unpleasant smells away, dispersing them into the vastness of the fields. Leon found himself grateful for that small mercy as they rode further into town.
The sights and sounds of the bustling marketplace didn't surprise him. After all, even in his homeland, it had taken over a decade to improve the urban environment. Sanitation wasn't a high priority for most medieval towns, and Faloris was no exception. Public health here seemed like an afterthought, evidenced by the stench and chaos of the streets.
But as they left the crowded market behind, following the winding road uphill toward the upper town, Leon noticed a marked improvement in the air. It was as if, with every step closer to the lord's castle, the weight of the town's filth lessened. He couldn't tell whether his nose had simply adjusted to the smells or if the air genuinely was fresher up here. Either way, it was a welcome change.
He slowed his horse slightly, lifting his gaze toward the distant highlands where the lord's castle loomed. Towering walls, sharp and imposing, dominated the skyline. Even from afar, it was a sight to behold. The fortress was separated from the rest of the town, perched high like a crown above the common folk. A flash of envy crossed Leon's eyes.
There was something awe-inspiring about such a fortress. It wasn't just the size or the grandeur, but the sheer power it represented. A fortress like that was more than just a home; it was security, a stronghold that could weather any storm.
Leon couldn't help but wish for such a place of his own. A fortress to call home, where he could protect those under his care. But he knew it was a dream far out of reach for a knight of his standing. He chuckled to himself, thinking, *If only.*
He had no plans to visit the castle today. From the letter he'd received a while back from Lord Balf, Leon already knew that Baron Elifer, the lord of the castle, was away leading his troops. The baron had crossed into Valley County to support the ongoing war in Mamore County, so the castle would be quiet, empty of its ruler.
They continued along the road, skirting the outskirts of the upper town, until they reached the city's far gate. Before leaving Farolis, Leon asked a few passers-by for directions and located a tavern that had a stable for their horses. It was time to rest, eat, and prepare for the next leg of their journey.
Dismounting outside the tavern, the three of them removed their hoods and walked inside, the warmth of the tavern's hearth hitting them immediately. They found a quiet corner and sat down. After arranging for the horses to be fed and stabled, they ordered some drinks and food.
Leon, who had never touched alcohol in his previous life, had gotten used to drinking beer since arriving here. It wasn't as if he had much choice. There was no way he could demand boiled water from every tavern and inn on his travels, and the quality of raw water in towns like this was far from reassuring. The thought of what might lurk in the town's water supply made him shudder.
At least the beer, with its low alcohol content, was safer to drink. It was a simple solution to an ever-present problem in these times.
As they settled in, the soft plucking of harp strings filled the room. A poet, leaning against the far wall, strummed a melancholic tune and began to sing:
*"The shadow of war, the earth is bare.
The people suffer, and despair fills the air.
Famine creeps like a thief in the night,
Leaving death and hunger in its blight."*
The sorrowful cadence was quickly interrupted by a loud, brash customer at a nearby table, who slammed a coin down in front of the poet. "Famine? Not here! This year's been good for the Barony, especially since the lord dealt with the Kantardars. If there's famine, it's in the south! Come on, change the song to something more cheerful."
The poet, caught off guard, cleared his throat and shifted to a song about brave knights and their heroic deeds. The customer, pleased with the change in tune, turned to his companion, launching into a story of his own.
"I'm telling you, I'm not making this up," the merchant said, leaning in conspiratorially. "I was in Deyatuk County, and I saw it with my own eyes. There's word going around that a dragon flew north. A *dragon*! That's got to be a bad omen for the southerners. This war? The general's going to sweep through and take the south for sure."
His companion wasn't buying it. "A dragon? With your eyesight, I wouldn't be surprised if you mistook a wild duck for a dragon when you're drunk." He laughed, shaking his head. "Enough with the tall tales."
The merchant huffed, waving him off. "Believe what you want, but I'm telling you; something big is happening. Refugees from the south have started flooding into River Valley County. Famine's coming, and with the war, it's only going to get worse."
His companion, still unconvinced, took a hearty bite of steak and replied between mouthfuls, "When there's war, there's famine. It's nothing new. But don't go spinning stories about dragons unless you've seen the king's flying beast. That, I might believe."
Their banter, accompanied by the poet's music, created a lively backdrop to the tavern's atmosphere. Meanwhile, Leon, Liam, and Brandon focused on their meal. The food was simple, but it filled their stomachs, and that was all that mattered for now. They ate quickly and without much distraction, their thoughts already on the road ahead.
Soon enough, they had finished their meal, paid for their drinks, and prepared to set off once again. The journey was far from over, but they were ready to face whatever lay ahead.
After wiping his mouth and setting down his tankard, Leon took a moment to scan the room, his eyes sweeping over the crowd gathered inside the tavern. It was a typical scene: resident poets strumming away on their harps, drunkards boasting loudly about exaggerated tales, but something was missing. Not a single person in the room fit the image of a mysterious adventurer. No cloaked figures with brooding eyes, no swordsmen leaning against the walls in shadowy corners, pretending to be seasoned experts on their next grand quest.
Even the tavern staff disappointed him. The waiters were all big, burly men, far from the pleasant, graceful servants he had grown accustomed to at home. The whole scene lacked the dramatic flair that Leon expected. Shaking his head with mild amusement, he thought to himself, *Where are the adventurers with swords and secrets when you need them? This place could really use a little more atmosphere.*
He chuckled, deciding he'd try his luck at a cheaper, rowdier tavern next time. Surely in one of those establishments, he'd find the kind of overly-dramatic, sword-carrying types who liked to pretend they were on epic quests.
Once they had finished their meal, Leon, Liam, and Brandon left the tavern. They mounted their horses and made their way out of the west gate, following the path marked as Kingdom Avenue on the map. Their journey continued westward, toward the larger city of Buneros, where Leon hoped to find a courier service that could deliver his letters.
To get there, they would need to cross through Kossos County and Brink County, but the roads ahead were well-maintained and lined with villages and towns. It was a safer route, with little to fear from bandits, and wild animals were hardly a threat to three well-armed knights riding strong horses. Within two days of travel, they found themselves approaching the border between Brink and Kossos.
The border was easy to spot. On one side, a great mountain loomed, marking the divide between the two counties. Its rocky face was a stark contrast to the surrounding woodlands, standing like a sentinel at the junction of the lands. They made their way along the mountain path, Leon focused on the simple map in his hand, making sure they were still on the right track.
"If we're right, we should be leaving the outer woods of the Nightmare Forest soon," Leon muttered, his eyes darting between the map and the surrounding landscape.
Suddenly, Liam, riding beside him, tapped his shoulder. "Leon, look over there. There's a body."
Startled, Leon looked up, immediately stowing the map in his pack. He followed Liam's gesture, eyes narrowing as he spotted the shape lying beside the path. They guided their horses closer, and Leon could see that the corpse had been there for some time, its flesh rotting and its identity long lost to decay.
Despite the state of the body, one thing caught Leon's attention; the armor. The torn, battered armor was unmistakable. "Kantadar," he muttered, recognizing the distinct markings.
Urging his horse forward, Leon inspected the body more closely. The soldier had met a gruesome end. His armor was ripped apart, as though some massive creature had torn through it with ease.
"Looks like he's one of those who fled from Selva," Brandon said, guiding his horse closer to inspect the mangled corpse. He pointed to the large tear in the armor, near the waist. "That wound… it wasn't from a blade. Something much bigger got him."
"That big guy actually chased them all the way here?" Liam added, his voice tinged with surprise. "Impressive."
Leon nodded solemnly. "A griffin can cover a lot of ground from the sky. We move slowly on foot and horseback, but a griffin could cross all of Kossos County in no time. Any of the Kantardars who were unlucky enough to be targeted wouldn't have stood a chance."
He sighed, glancing up at the towering mountain ahead of them. "It would've been great if the griffin had given us a ride."
Brandon chuckled, pointing to the mountain's peak. "Maybe it built a nest up there. Why don't you climb up and ask it nicely?"
Leon grinned, shaking his head. "By the time we climb that mountain, we could have reached Buneros on foot. Besides, the griffin hasn't returned since that day. No one knows where it's settled now."
The memory of the griffin brought a bittersweet smile to Leon's face. He had long ago given up on any fantasy of owning such a magnificent creature. As much as he admired the mighty beast, there was no way he could afford to keep one. Raising horses was expensive enough; feeding a griffin would be an unimaginable cost.
He imagined the griffin's appetite for cattle, sheep, and, unfortunately, horses. The idea of keeping such a creature seemed absurd for a knight of his modest means. Only someone like the emperor, Hammerman himself, could afford to ride a Deathclaw, a creature far beyond the reach of a small-time knight like Leon.
"Honestly, even if I could afford to feed it, there's no way it would stick around just for a meal. That big guy's far too independent for that," Leon mused aloud, his tone wistful. "I'm lucky it visited me in Selva at all."
Still, a part of him couldn't help but wonder. Maybe, just maybe, the griffin had made its home nearby, as Brandon had joked. Perhaps it would appear again one day. If he could strike a deal; offer it some form of tribute in exchange for protection, it could be a powerful ally for his village. Who wouldn't want a griffin watching over them?
Leon shook the thought from his mind as they pressed on. There was no point in daydreaming about things beyond his reach. For now, their focus was on the road ahead and the journey to Buneros. But, if the opportunity ever arose, he wouldn't hesitate to find the griffin's lair. A partnership, even a tenuous one, would be worth the effort.