When Limon left the inn, he realized that the weather had changed without him noticing.
The wind howled, whistling through the air as yellow sand filled the sky. The entire sky was a hazy grey, and the wind-driven sand lashed against his face.
Experienced adventurers had already wrapped their faces with scarves as they left the inn, shielding themselves from the sandstorm.
As Limon tied the scarf around his face, a faint fragrance reached his nose, slightly refreshing his spirit.
That must be Teresa's scent…
He didn't think much of it. Watching the direction the adventurers were heading, Limon followed along.
The Bronze Guard encampment was right beside the outpost— a field of white tents.
A Bronze Guard detachment consisted of fifty men— not a large number, but sufficient for guarding the outpost and patrolling the trade routes in normal times.
