The early spring snow still fell heavily in the Northern Frontier. The caravan advanced slowly, its wooden wheels rumbling over frozen earth.
Salton, a merchant from the South, pulled his cloak tighter, but the cold still cut to his bones.
He frowned at the white expanse of the Northern Frontier ahead, his voice thick with disdain.
More than once along the way, he had heard people say that Lord Louis, the ruler of Red Tide, was building "the most luxurious main castle in the Northern Frontier," something even more extravagant than Silver Castle or Holy Dragon Cathedral.
Every time Salton heard it, he felt as though someone had told him a joke.
An upstart from the Northern Frontier-however much he fussed over it, could he really pile stones into a miracle?
"Old John, I honestly don't understand how you people stand this miserable place. Winter in the Imperial Capital is a hundred, a thousand times better." He snorted, then spoke again as though deliberately showing off his worldly experience.
"I've attended banquets at Silver Castle and heard sacred hymns at Holy Dragon Cathedral. I hear your Red Tide Fief has built some new main castle. Hah. To my mind, it's just a few country bumpkins piling stones a little higher and putting on airs."
He raised a hand toward the distance. "Isn't Duke Edmund's old fortress the most luxurious place around here? That thing is nothing but a bigger stone cage. However rich your Lord Louis is... surely he can't turn stone into gold?"
Old John merely smiled as he listened, offering no rebuttal.
"My lord, wake up! We've reached Red Tide City!"
Salton had been dozing against the carriage wall, lulled into a stupor by the jolting ride.
At those words, he frowned and groggily opened his eyes.