Loa rode Wuzhui across the Luo'ao Empire.
The Luo'ao Empire was the easternmost nation on the Yulan Continent. Beyond it to the east lay the Far East Prairie. The empire's eastern border stretched for thousands of li, with no towering mountains or great rivers to serve as natural barriers, only a long wall of earth and stone winding across the grassland like a sleeping giant snake.
The wall was not particularly high, only five or six meters, but it was solidly built, broad at the base and narrow at the top, with enough room along its crest for carriages. A beacon tower stood every hundred paces, square and squat, like a sturdy mound of earth. Dried cattle dung and wolf dung were piled on top-there were no stones on the prairie, and all the fuel for the smoke signals was hauled in from the interior, cartload after cartload, then stacked below the towers and covered with oilcloth to keep out the rain.
As Loa passed, he saw several guards carrying fuel up to a beacon tower. They wore the Luo'ao Empire's drab gray uniforms, their collars open and sleeves rolled up to their elbows. Their movements were listless, as though they had spent their entire lives doing this work and had long since grown numb to it. One older veteran set down a basket of cattle dung, straightened up and thumped his lower back, glanced toward Loa, then lowered his head and went back to hauling.
The border checkpoint was called Horse Market Pass, the largest trading port between the prairie and the civilized world. It was small and built of stone, with an archway broad enough for two large carts abreast. There was no gate tower above it, only a low parapet, behind which stood several spear-carrying soldiers, their