"Stop for a moment."
As the caravan traveled onward, a voice suddenly called for a halt from inside one of the carriages.
Nisang heard it clearly. The voice had come from the carriage carrying the distinguished Druid.
"Stop for a moment," he promptly ordered.
The caravan slowly came to a halt. The workers had no idea what had happened, but since their employer had told them to stop, they naturally obeyed.
Nisang climbed out of his own carriage and approached Romon's.
"Lord Romon, what can I do for you?" he asked, somewhat puzzled. Along the way, Romon had already intervened several times, blasting a number of monsters to death. They had suffered neither casualties nor lost cargo over the past few days, and Nisang now felt extremely fortunate to have given such a distinguished master a ride.
Romon's carriage was near the front of the procession. Its curtain lifted, and Romon jumped down.
"Nisang, what lies ahead?" Romon asked, pointing down the road.
From where they stood, vague outlines were beginning to emerge through the thick fog ahead.
Clearly, they had passed through the uninhabited stretch and were beginning to enter an area settled by humans.
But Romon had not asked simply because he wanted to know where they were. What he really wanted to know was why he had suddenly felt uneasy.
Unaware of Romon's true thoughts, Nisang hastily answered, "Lord Romon, up ahead is Count Butler's territory. The city we're heading to is within his domain."
"Count Butler?" Romon had never heard the name, but he could sense a certain aura coming from the land ahead.
It was a very strange aura, seemingly that of a faint but tangible barrier.
"Lord Romon? Lord Romon?" Seeing Romon's odd expression, Nisang began to feel uneasy.
*Could there be something dangerous