The sound of wheels grinding over the gravel road rang especially clear in the twilight.
The carriage had already been out of the Holy Kingdom's borders for three days.
The scenery on either side of the official road had gradually changed from fertile farmland into barren wilderness, and a hazy outline of mountains could be seen on the distant horizon.
That was the natural barrier between the Slane Theocracy and the Holy Kingdom.
Higashino Makoto reclined against the cushioned seat inside the carriage, holding the six-sided die in his hand as his thumb repeatedly stroked the words "Theocracy."
The die's surface had been polished smooth as a mirror from his handling, gleaming softly in the lingering sunlight filtering through the gap in the curtains.
Kurumi sat opposite him, her black twin-tails hanging over her shoulders. Her exposed right eye was half-closed, as though she were dozing—or watching the scenery outside through the gap in the curtains.
A black cat lay sprawled across her lap.
It had followed them at some point, though Higashino Makoto had not asked when.
Kurumi had named it "Zafkiel," claiming it was "a homophone for time."
Higashino Makoto thought that was a bit of a stretch, but he did not say so.
The carriage suddenly slowed.
Higashino Makoto's fingers stopped moving.
The coachman's voice came from outside the carriage.
"My lord, there's... someone blocking the road ahead."
Higashino Makoto's gaze shifted slightly.
He lifted the curtain and glanced outside.
Someone stood in the middle of the official road.
They wore a dusty gray traveling cloak, their hood pulled low enough to obscure their face.
Their body was thin and wiry, like a bamboo stalk bent by the wind.
They leaned on a wooden staff taller than themselves, with a dim stone embedded at its tip, so