The First Rule

Under the clear sky, Tales and Kez stood outside a wilderness hut, watching two well-saddled packhorses leisurely grazing before them.

"Are you sure you don't need me to escort you any farther?" Kez asked, scratching her head with the aid of a branch.

"Although the search in Dragoncloud City is limited to within the city, all the major checkpoints must have been notified..."

Tales drew a light breath and looked at the hut before him, his spirits lifted.

This was a hideout outside the city belonging to Grivo and his brothers.

These mud-legged peasants from the Shield District had arranged their escape route in advance through their own people, who transported necessities and manure—at this thought, Tales's face darkened again. Two packhorses stood there, grazing and docilely watching them.

Perhaps his adventures in the Black Path had been too colorful. After escaping, there had been a moment when Tales had nearly forgotten the primary purpose of their journey.

But once he remembered, his heart was filled with mixed emotions.

Tales breathed in the scent of wild grass and gazed at the stubborn weeds growing beneath his feet, as well as the coniferous forests unique to the Northern Land and the few evergreen broadleaf trees in the distance. He sighed deeply.

Six years.

He had left Dragoncloud City.

The Prince occasionally looked back at the distant peak, imagining the crowded, chaotic streets on the other side of the mountain, along with the rugged and magnificent palace that exuded majesty.

He shook his head and ended those memories with a smile.

"And do you know where you're going?" Kez asked, frowning.

"Yes, I know the direction, and I know which places have checkpoints and can't be approached." Tales recalled the map, thinking of the route Raphael had pointed out to him. It