Chapter 40

The caravan I was guarding left Pralet, where we had briefly stopped, and continued across the endless, open plains. According to Medsav, if we kept moving steadily, we would reach our destination, Mel, within a day.

I sat perched on the very last wagon, just as I had at the start of the journey, scanning the surroundings. In the sky above, enormous dark clouds drifted eastward. Fortunately, Mel lay to the north, so the city wouldn’t be touched by the rain.

I straightened up from my seat and turned to sit properly, which made a few merchants who had been chatting flinch at the sight of me. When I shifted my gaze elsewhere, their voices soon resumed. I had no idea why they reacted that way whenever they saw me, but I didn’t particularly dislike it.

Then I noticed Sunwar’s back on the driver’s seat of another wagon. His shoulders sagged as if all his energy had drained away. Even so, thanks to years of mercenary work, they were still broad, sturdy shoulders.

I stared at them for a moment—his shoulders, not his back—before looking away. But all I could see was the boundless plains and the occasional tree scattered across the land.
Bored, I returned to the edge of the wagon, sat down again, closed my eyes, and focused on the internal energy circulating in my dantian.

A sharp whinny split the air. The wagon jolted, then rolled to a halt.

I opened my eyes and swept my gaze around. The sky had grown dusky before I noticed, and a few merchants were busily moving with rolled-up tents in their arms.

High above, the Green Moon had already risen, bathing the night in a faint emerald glow.
The Green Moon marked spring. After spring, the Red Moon rose, ushering in summer.

Then came the Blue Moon of autumn, followed by the White Moon of winter.

“Dinner time!”

At that call, I tore my eyes away from the sky. Where the mercenaries gathered, Sharn and Sunwar were already seated, tearing into bread and meat. Likely bought from Pralet yesterday.

I grabbed a chunk of meat from the plate in front of me and bit into it. It wasn’t tough, but the lack of seasoning left it bland. I set it down and scooped up some soup—when suddenly Sharn smacked his hands together, stood, and headed for the tents.

He must have finished already. Before leaving, he shot me a mocking look, smirk tugging at his lips. His eyes brimmed with arrogance.

If that guy had been a monster, I would have killed him already. I dismissed him from my thoughts and returned to my soup.

Turning my head, I saw Sunwar still sitting there, chewing slowly on bread. The sight reminded me of last night at the inn.

I had just lain down to sleep when he crept into my room, trying to ambush me.
Sneaking in at midnight—his intent was obvious.

Naturally, I noticed right away. Before he realized what happened, I slipped behind him and clamped a hand around the back of his neck. The startled twitch that ran through him transmitted clearly into my grip.

He tried to wrench himself free with sudden force, but I tightened my hold, stopping him cold. After struggling wildly for a while, he froze.

Since I had no real interest in dealing with him, I let him go. He hesitated, then slunk away. No doubt the mark of my hand still lingered on his neck.

“Uh… about last night—”

Sunwar’s hesitant voice reached me now. He was finally bringing it up.

“Forget it.”

I cut him off and set down my soup. The way he hesitated now was nothing like how he’d acted before. Was it really that hard to know a person’s true nature until you spent enough time with them? Or maybe it had nothing to do with that at all.

I brushed aside the thought and stood up. Tonight, at least, I felt like I could sleep in peace.

Merchants busily dismantled their tents and began climbing back onto the wagons one by one. Soon the caravan was moving again toward Mel, leaving behind nothing but charred, blackened trees where we had camped.

The wagon I sat on rocked with steady rhythm. From the even breathing behind me, it seemed the merchants sharing the cart had already dozed off.

Above, the sun blazed brightly while the fading moon still lingered, casting a faint emerald glow across the world. The scene looked almost mystical. The air was quiet, the breeze cool, and for a while everything felt tranquil.

Only the occasional snort of a horse broke the silence, followed by the crack of a whip to urge them on. By the time the sun, which had clung to the horizon, climbed to its peak, everyone stopped to eat lunch.

“From here on, you’ll see the forest ahead. Everyone, be cautious of possible ambushes.”

Just before we set out again, Medsav raised his voice. The merchants nodded or muttered agreement.

The once-flat plain now showed slopes and ridges, and a hill loomed ahead. Until we crossed it, we wouldn’t know what lay beyond.

“Everyone, please dismount here!”

Medsav strode toward the lead wagon, shouting. Judging by the incline, the horses would never manage with passengers weighing them down.

At his order, the merchants—except for the drivers—climbed down and began walking. I, too, hopped off and walked from the back of the train. From behind, I could see Sunwar walking close beside a wagon, but Sharn was nowhere in sight. He was probably up at the front.

Halfway up the slope, the distinct scent of greenery wafting from the forest teased my nose. Likely no one else noticed it.

Whinnies, snorts, and the drivers’ cries overlapped into noisy chaos. Whips cracked without pause, driving the horses harder. The animals would need rest at the top of the hill. Stopping midway would only drain them more.

“Apologies, but please each take a load from the wagons!”

When the horses slowed to a crawl, Medsav called out again.

“Mercenaries need not carry anything.”

The merchants obeyed without complaint, though a few muttered until Medsav went over and said something that quickly silenced them. I considered sharpening my hearing with internal energy to eavesdrop, but decided against it. Their affairs had nothing to do with me.

With the loads lightened, the horses picked up speed again. At last we crested the hill, where a road wide enough for two wagons stretched ahead. On either side, the forest unfurled in a straight, majestic line.

Sunlight filtering through leaves dappled the long path, turning the green canopy into a grand sight.

We stopped to rest again—this time for the horses, who panted harshly after the climb.

“Board again later! Move out!”

Medsav’s voice rang out, and the caravan rolled forward once more.