Sitting within the caravan’s carriage, Garen quietly calculated the formula in front of him, lines of tiny alphanumeric formulas flowed from the tip of his pen, neatly written on a sheet of white paper.
The wagon’s wheels rolled slowly, its creak blending with the rustling sound of writing.
The morning light shimmered in from the window, and illuminated some of the darker parts within the carriage.
They’d arrived at a safe zone; outside the carriage was the heavily armored white horse cavalry that had escorted them. These cavalryman were led by a Form 1 Totem User, whose head was held high and his chest bulged as he rode on horseback in white armor. The handsome man displayed an aura of pride and bravery.
Garen glanced away from the side of the cavalry.
"We're about to reach the West Farm defense line right?" he murmured.
Angel shrugged as she sat opposite him,carefully moving her injured shoulder to answer the question.
