Under the slanting afternoon sun, Blair cut a particularly eye-catching figure as he walked alone along the mountain path.
He wore a light brown leather jerkin, its surface covered in the marks of time and travel. Its original color had long been weathered by wind and rain into a deep, textured brown, like ancient tree bark—steady yet untamed.
The leather was tough yet supple, fitting snugly over his muscular body and rising slightly with his movements. The seams and joins were tightly stitched with coarse hemp thread, the lines faintly visible beneath the sunlight, sturdy and durable.
Blair's clothes were inevitably stained with dust and mud, scattered across the leather armor in blotches. Around his knees and elbows especially, the dirt had nearly seeped into the grain of the leather, leaving marks that were hard to wash away, as though recording the hardships of a long journey.
A longbow was slung across Blair's back. Its body was dark brown, its string taut with the tension of something ready to strike at any moment. He also carried a shortsword in his right hand. The blade gleamed coldly, while the hilt had been worn smooth. It was clear that despite seeing many battles, it had been well maintained by Blair.
Blair moved carefully through the outskirts of the Ili Hills.
Though this place was far from the heart of the battlefield, and the lush vegetation seemed untouched by the war, it was also sparsely populated. After walking for most of the day, Blair had not encountered a single other traveler.
He had chosen this route to Gordon Kingdom precisely because it was secluded enough. Soldiers from Archibald Kingdom and the Paro Federation rarely appeared in this direction.
As the war continued, the trade exchanges that had once existed between the two sides