Yveta jumped out of the carriage. When his feet hit the ground, they burned a charred mark into the soil.
He ran toward the creek they had just passed.
The edges of the leaves on the trees near where he passed curled up, as if they were about to catch fire at any moment.
The four blacksmith apprentices in the carriage behind saw their lord suddenly run back and hurriedly stopped the two nags pulling it. They hesitated, unsure whether they should follow him.
The apprentice driving the carriage looked confused. "Why is the lord running?"
"What do you mean, running? Do you even know how to speak? His lordship must have something of his own to take care of." The three artisan apprentices inside the carriage immediately criticized him.
The apprentice pulling the carriage was a young man in plain clothes, a few years older than Yveta. He covered his mouth, realizing that what he had just said was wrong.
"What should we do now?"
The Demon Hunter Black Wolf shouted to them from the carriage ahead, "We'll continue on to Parviga. We won't wait for them."
"Prince Yveta said he'd find a way to catch up with the convoy later."
"We'll meet up in Parviga."
In the corner of his eye, the Old Witch had already caught up with Yveta.
That had been Yveta's order before he got out of the carriage.
It was no joke. Everyone in his territory was waiting for him to sell the cast iron, earn some money, and then hand out their wages.
Yveta had no intention of letting a task that should have taken only four days drag on for weeks because he was learning magic.
So the two carriages continued on.
Meanwhile, the three spells had left the book and converged