The sun’s rays were bouncing off his shiny armor and reflecting onto his eyes, causing Norian to squint. This place was the only passage that connected the vast south with the northern regions. Up to now, Count Essen had never sent any transportation convoys carrying anything of value.

However, it was different this time around. Though he was muttering something in disgust, he could sense something different in the air this time. As Cecil the Bard would later recount in his tales…

‘His greed and fate were catching up to him.’

Marquis Norian looked over his armor and weapon once more. He had put on his full war gear. He wore Alchin leather armor, carried a sword made from Alchin’s bones, wore a gauntlet specially made for defensive purposes on one hand, and wore another gauntlet specially made for hand-to-hand combat on the other hand.

Having accelerated his body, he clearly saw the convoy slowly making its way to his gates.

His military was already in battle formation. One of the gate doors was closed and another open. Along the sides of the open door were soldiers who were lined up and awaiting the convoy.

To confront this convoy, they prepared arrows and catapults to attack from range. For any outside observer, their large-scale formation was as if they were preparing to take over another territory’s land. 

“Hmm…” the Marquis sighed. He started asking Natin, who was beside him, in anger and ...