The day he set out was in mid-July.
Fenlai City was as hot as a steamer. The stone-paved streets scorched the feet, and even the air felt sticky. With his pack on his back, Loa stood at the courtyard gate and took one last look at the little courtyard where he had lived for three years. This time, his return date was uncertain. He would come back once he found the Thunder Prison Sword Saint's legacy, and he also had to keep an eye out for information about the Flamewalking Dragon.
The old locust tree's leaves drooped listlessly, and a few dried locust blossoms lay on the rim of the well. Bob was busy in the Blacksmith Shop, the clanging drifting out from the backyard just as it always did.
He did not go inside to say goodbye. They had said everything two days earlier-he was going to train in the Magical Beast Mountain Range, for a month or two at the shortest, and who knew how long at the longest. Bob had stayed silent for a long time before finally squeezing out a single sentence: "Come back alive."
Loa had agreed.
He left a letter for Linley, asking Uncle Bob to give it to him if he came by.
He turned and walked into the alley at an unhurried pace. The streets were as crowded as ever, full of vegetable sellers, people hauling goods, people haggling, and plenty of armed mercenaries. No one paid attention to the young man carrying a pack and a longsword.
Only after he left the city gates did his steps gradually quicken.
The main road ran straight ahead, flanked by broad wheat fields. July was the season when the wheat put out ears, and green waves rolled through the fields as the wind blew.