A month passed quickly.
Outside a mountain range, a long procession was slowly making its way forward.
They moved slowly, and their composition was rather unusual. They carried not only a large quantity of supplies, but also many children and women. They looked less like a proper merchant caravan and more like a group of people on the move.
At the very front of the procession rode a young man in a black-sleeved robe. He looked to be only in his teens, with exceptionally handsome features. His expression calm and composed, he scanned his surroundings.
"From the looks of it, we're almost at the next city."
Riding at the head of the procession and watching the knights return in the distance, Arthur murmured to himself.
By now, more than a month had passed since they left the Northern Lands.
They had been following the old trade routes, and after all this time, they were already close to the southern kingdoms.
As they neared the southern lands, some of the people in the procession began to leave, choosing routes different from Edward and the others.
Over this period, as the nobles gradually departed, the procession—which had originally numbered more than two thousand—had dwindled to just over a thousand. Compared with before, they were now moving much faster.
"The first country we'll enter along this route is the Duchy of Balun. It's a small country we know well, and we have considerable influence there."
Flar rode up beside him. Seeing a few signs of habitation appear in the distance, he smiled. "I've already sent word ahead. When we reach the next city, our people will come to meet us and arrange for Lord Edward to settle in."
At that, Arthur's gaze sharpened. "Has it been decided?"
"Yes. It's the best outcome." Flar