Clop, clop, clop!
The thunder of hooves rang out continuously over the streets paved with bluestone slabs.
A large procession of riders galloped through Lordaeron City.
These riders were, of course, Rex and his entourage.
Rex rode the Netherwing King at the head of the procession, with his guards following behind.
Ever since learning the truth from Neptulon the Tidehunter, Rex had consciously increased his protection after returning to the Kingdom of Gilneas. Being in Lordaeron City was no reason for him to dispense with additional guards. Quite the opposite: even here on his own territory, he had expanded his escort from a single squad to a full company.
Had a battalion not been too large and conspicuous, Rex would have considered assigning one to protect him.
Although Rex did not do that when traveling through Lordaeron City, more than a battalion guarded the area around his residence. Of course, the visible force was always limited to one battalion.
It was a classic case of appearing relaxed while maintaining tight security beneath the surface. As for appearances and criticism, Rex, a pragmatist who put his interests first, cared nothing for them. His own life mattered more than anything else. Everything else could be ignored.
Rex valued his life. That was simply who he was.
The entrance to the Underground Prison was no ordinary place. It was not in a bustling downtown neighborhood, but in the Military District.
This had been a twofold consideration during construction. If someone actually escaped the Underground Prison and emerged into a busy neighborhood, would that not make it easy for them to get away? Putting it in the Military District was different. It provided a second layer of security. Even if someone left the Underground Prison, what could they do? Outside lay the Military District,