Chapter 227: Sandy Road

They moved slowly along the road, the animals setting the pace.

The cows plodded forward with heavy, deliberate steps. The Moatts were even slower, their massive bodies swaying with each stride.

The goats darted and weaved, their restless energy making them difficult to keep in line. The chickens clucked in their cages, their feathers ruffled by the movement of the wagons.

Progress was being made, but it was slow. Very slow. Darion estimated that they had covered barely a quarter of the distance they would have covered on horseback alone.

But there was no point in rushing. The animals needed to rest, to drink, to eat. Pushing them too hard would only lead to exhaustion and injury.

Darion and Seren rode side by side at the front of the caravan, their horses matching the slow pace of the wagons.

The morning sun was warm on their faces, the sky clear and blue. It was a beautiful day for travel, even if the journey itself was tedious.

"This is going to take forever," Seren said, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Yesterday was very exhausting already."

Darion shrugged. "It’s not about speed. It’s about getting them home safely."

"I know. It’s just... I didn’t realize how slow cows could be."

Darion laughed. "Neither did I."

They rode in silence for a while, watching the landscape slowly change around them. The fields gave way to scattered trees, which gave way to open grassland. The road was well-maintained, its surface packed hard by years of travel.

People on the road looked at them with interest. Travelers on foot paused to stare. Merchants on wagons slowed to get a better view. Farmers working in the fields stopped their labor to watch the procession pass.

The scale of the animals they were taking away was impressive. Six cows, six goats, twelve chickens, and four Moatts, it was a small herd, and it drew attention.

Some people nodded in approval. Others whispered to each other, their eyes wide with curiosity.

Darion watched them back, his eyes scanning each face. He was starting to grow cautious with each person that seemingly admired what they carried.

In a world like this, where survival was often a matter of strength and cunning, admiration could quickly turn into envy. And envy could turn into action.

He thought about what he would do if someone tried to take what was his.

He would not hesitate to kill anyone without hesitation. That was the reality of this world. In this part of Valvanos, it was much easier to kill and go away with it than it was to follow the rules of law and order.

There were no police, no courts, no justice system to protect you. There was only your strength, your will, and your willingness to do what needed to be done.

Take Gonnb, for instance. They had started the killing of his messenger, and he had responded by wiping them out.

Even though it was slightly justified in modern-day Earth terms, he wasn’t sure. On Earth, he might have been arrested and given life imprisonment. Here, he was simply a Baron protecting his people and his territory.

They kept moving, the sun climbing higher in the sky. The landscape began to change again, the green fields giving way to something more barren. The grass grew thinner, the trees more sparse. The road became dustier, the air drier.

They entered a region that was mostly empty and sandy, seemingly like a desert. The sand stretched out in every direction, broken only by the occasional rock or shrub. The heat was oppressive, the sun beating down on them without mercy.

Darion looked around, his brow furrowing. "I don’t know of a place like this," he said to the wagon leader. "I thought the route back to Percvale was different."

The wagon leader nodded. "It’s another route," he said. "I’m trying to avoid the usual route. It’ll be very busy now, with all the traders and buyers returning home just like us."

Darion considered this.

Traffic would delay them so much. Getting stuck in a crowd of other travelers, with their own animals and wagons, would slow them down even more.

Some of his animals might get stolen in the confusion, and he wouldn’t even know until it was too late. There were too many variables, too many chances for something to go wrong.

He nodded slowly. "Alright. I trust your judgment."

They kept going, the sandy shortcut stretching out before them. Darion noticed that the people controlling the cows and Moatts were trying by the way.

It looked like so much work. The animals were stubborn, their movements unpredictable. The men had to constantly guide them, redirect them, keep them from wandering off.

Their pay didn’t seem so big now, Darion thought. They earned every coin.

Then, Darion had wondered why they charged that much. When the wagon leader had first named his price, Darion had thought it was steep, maybe even too steep.

He had tried to bargain lower, to haggle the man down to a more reasonable rate. But they did not agree.

It had seemed like a lot of silver for a job that was just guiding some animals along a road.

Now, seeing them work for it, he understood.

The men were constantly moving, their bodies in a state of perpetual effort.

They jogged alongside the cows, waving their arms to keep the animals in line. They coaxed the Moatts forward with patience.

They chased after the goats whenever one of them darted off to the side, their feet pounding against the sandy ground. They checked the chickens’ cages, making sure the birds were secure and comfortable.

They actually ’worked’ for the coins.

Darion closed his eyes for a little, not to sleep, but just for the comfort of it. The warmth of the sun on his face, the rhythm of his horse’s movements, the sounds of the caravan around him, it was almost peaceful.

About a minute later, he heard a shout.

His eyes snapped open. Men with long swords were rising from the sands!

They emerged from hidden positions, their weapons glinting in the sunlight. They moved with purpose, their eyes fixed on the caravan.

There were nine of them.

Darion’s hand went to his... weapon.

Wait... did he have a weapon?

The caravan came to a halt, the animals shifting nervously. The wagon men reached for their own weapons.

The attackers were closing in.