Once we finished getting ready to head out in the morning, a member of the caravan approached. He said that if we happened to be traveling in the same direction as them, we were welcome to join them.
Having more water mages around was better than not, after all. Which wasn’t to say that the prince was one—he could use other elemental magic as well.
Speaking of the prince, Wal looked sleep-deprived this morning. I guessed that he’d had trouble getting to sleep. Since I’d fallen asleep first, I had no idea what had happened while I had slept. The rest area outside our tent had been roaring with boisterous noise until late, so maybe it’d bothered him.
“Ah, so you’re heading in the other direction,” lamented the merchant. I could see their shoulders drop at the news. “Well, if you’re heading north, do be careful. A war’s broken out at the base of the Northern Ridges, which is why we’re taking the southern route. Khrasiel’s been at war for ages, but they’re fighting with the Southern Bloc—which means their business won’t interrupt ours.”
“Khrasiel...” Wal echoed in a subdued murmur.
I nodded at the merchant’s words and took a step forward. “By the way, now that you mention it... How’s the war going down there?”
Wal glanced at me but didn’t say a word.
“It’s still ongoing, but I think they’re doing pretty well. They still buy our supplies, and since they’re winning, they get plenty of mercenaries flocking to them—they must think it’s easy money. I think they’re hiring adventurers too, aren’t they, boss?”
The leader of the adventuring party—the man who bore a shield and was currently standing on the opposite side of the rest area’s clearing—nodded at that.
Keith, who was standing next to the group’s leader, approached us then. He must’ve been drawn by our conversation.
“The guild in Khrasiel is pulling in a ton of people too. The news that it’s a fast way to get some quick cash is spreading like wildfire,” he said, joining our chat.
“Are you also planning on working for them, Keith?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I ain’t cut out for dealing with other people unless it’s to knock some bandit’s lights out. Being an adventurer means being a champion for the li’l guys. But I’m far better suited for guarding caravans and killing monsters.”
“But doesn’t the guild conscript anyone who’s highly skilled in combat during a state of emergency?” asked the merchant.
“Oh, about that—conscription is handled on a branch-to-branch basis, so as long as you avoid the ones that are pulling people in, it’s smooth sailing,” Keith replied. Then, he looked at me as if he remembered something. “Didn’t you say you were an adventurer, Arowa?”
“Not at all.”
“I see. That’s a shame; if you were an adventurer too, we could keep in contact with letters through the guild—” He stopped mid-sentence, eyeing Wal. “Er, I’m just talking about letters, Al. You know, if we happen to run into each other again somewhere...”
“We’ll certainly meet again, should fate will it,” I said, giving Keith a smile as he tried to placate Wal, who was standing behind me.
A moment of surprise flitted across the red-haired man’s face. He quietly nodded. “Ah, this is about the beard, huh...”
Wal spoke up then, cutting off any further chatter with Keith. “I’ve finished getting ready to head out, so we should start on our way,” he said, clearly directing this comment to me. His heavy pack was nestled over his shoulders and included one half of the tent, which now sat neatly fastened to the rest of his load.
“Right,” I agreed as I slung my own pack over my shoulders. We needed to get some distance away from the caravan so I could shove all this stuff back into my Pocket Dimension, after all.
I had told the caravan we were heading north, but in truth, we would be going farther east. We were still in the middle of our massive detour from Helenna as we pushed onward in a counterclockwise fashion around the area of conflict. Eventually, we would have to adjust our trajectory and head north instead of continuing northeast.
Our current goal was to reach the coordinates of 03:05. There, splitting the northern half of the Central Nations into eastern and western halves, was an enormous ridge known as the Dragon’s Jaw.
Towering over that sky-high and jagged mountain line was a citadel known as Syrrin, as well as the city that had formed around it at the base of the mountains, Alsyrrin. Together, they comprised a strategic, key location over the local geography.
Waving to the caravan of merchants as we shouted our farewells, Wal and I set forth from the rest area to continue our journey.