Boer noticed nothing unusual as the carriage entered Sika Territory.
In the end, he could only put it down to his own lack of sharpness.
He was convinced Qin Ran must have discovered something.
Then he put that thought aside for the moment, because a troop of cavalry had approached their carriage.
It was a fifty-man cavalry troop, wearing metal breastplates and carrying matchlock guns on their backs, longswords at their sides, and crossbows beside their saddles. They were almost fully armed and brimming with murderous intent.
Their breastplates bore Viscount Sika's longsword crest, with the Temple of the War God's bloodstained, flaming sword emblem above it.
Viscount Sika was a devout follower of the Temple of the War God, so naturally, his family crest sat beneath the temple's emblem.
"Good morning, sir."
The cavalry leader greeted Boer politely, his gaze sweeping over the bodyguard Ashkano and the spoils and prisoners atop the carriage. His eyes held both wariness and envy.
The wariness came from battle.
The envy came from battle, too.
Battle makes us strong and wealthy, but it also brings death-everyone on the Northern Continent kept that famous saying of the Temple of the War God firmly in mind.
"Good morning, sir."
Boer opened the carriage door and stepped down. Without removing his furs, he made a fist with his right hand and lightly tapped his chest.
The Temple of the War God's salute eased some of the wariness in the cavalry leader's eyes. When Boer produced identification papers for himself, his bodyguard, and Qin Ran, the man's expression relaxed completely.
Then Boer took out a flask and handed it over, bringing a smile to the man's face.
"Home-brewed liquor from Morsa."
Boer smiled.
"Morsa has the best furs and liquor!"
The cavalry leader smiled, then lowered his