White horse car on the King's Road.
It's a word that many people think of when they hear the name of the southern power, the Kingdom of Galais.
Even Almark, the son of a northern mercenary, had heard the words. Whether it's a world far away or completely unrelated to me.
"King's Way" running vertically and horizontally across the entire Kingdom of Galais.
Maintenance began as a national undertaking in the days of previous generations of kings, and it is a great street where all itineraries have finally been completed in the reign of the present king.
The width of the road where four cars can go side by side if it's a shared carriage.
A relay guard post is set up along the way, responsible for the maintenance of the streets and the maintenance of law and order.
It is the "White Horse Car" that runs in a dedicated lane in the aorta of its Galais kingdom, to which many travellers go every day.
This is also a white horse that tows a dedicated white bodied carriage. But it's not a biological horse.
A magical horse made of metal that knows no fatigue, created with the advanced magic technology of the Kingdom of Galais.
Its speed is more than twice that of a regular ride-along carriage. It is the most advanced form of transportation that has changed the concept of the journey of the Kingdom of Galais.
For that matter, the fare is more than 10 times that of a regular ride-along carriage. In essence, it has become almost a vehicle for the wealthy.
The guests waiting for the white horse in the waiting area where Almark and the others arrived can also see that they are all wealthy.
"Wow, we're so out of place."
Morgen whispers to Almark, but Almark doesn't care.
Because after leaving the north and crossing the Menover Strait, over here, Almark has been traveling out of place for a long time.
"Ask for the time of your flight to Miletos"
Asked the attendant woman in a tight, pure white uniform when she had her flight to Miletos, she said it was already after she left today.
"If you're going to Miletos, take that flight further north to Linoves. Please buy a ticket and then come back tomorrow morning"
After thanking the attendant who had also politely taught his child Almark that, and asking for a ticket for two, they left the waiting area.
"Tomorrow. I can't help it, it's still wild today, Almark."
That's what Morgen says and sees Almark.
"No, let's take the inn today. Nojuku is dangerous."
"Huh?"
Morgen seems unhappy that he went wild yesterday in a city he misses more.
"There's so many people out there."
"That's why."
Almark says without incident.
"Where there are many people, Nojuku is dangerous."
In fact, Almark had a dangerous experience playing wild boarding in this city.
In this galentre, every decent resident has a home to live in, and every decent traveler stays in an inn.
The only kind of person who does wild lodging is the kind who relaxes or begs.
And there is territory in this city for beggars and wanderings.
A stranger playing wild boarding in a discretionary place means roughing up their territory.
"I slept in an alley at night, and a few loose people with knives threatened me. He said get out of here right away."
said Almark.
And he was equally threatened by several beggars even ahead of him when he moved.
I could have tried to resist, but pulling out my sword in this civilized city and hurting my opponent means becoming a criminal.
The guys threatening me didn't even look like they were seriously trying to hurt Almark, so Almark moved quietly.
But in the end that happened repeatedly all night, and I couldn't sleep that night.
"If you want to go through that, I won't stop you."
To Almark's words, Morgen shook his head as he shrugged.
"Let's stay at the inn. In a proper inn."
Relying on Almark's memory, the two men chose an affordable accommodation not so far from the waiting area of the white horse car that they would not pry even on a two-person journey for their children.
Dinner was told to be served at the inn in a co-located tavern, so the two go to the tavern at a time when the sun still doesn't set that seems to be as drunk as possible.
But soon I found out it was a wasted effort.
The tavern was already full of drunks.
Some guests openly turned their curious gaze to the two children sitting at the table in the corner, but fortunately there were no guests directly involved. If this is a little late, I don't know how it went.
"Let's eat what we eat and go home"
"Yeah, you are."
Exactly. Morgen, the eater, didn't seem to want to stay long either, and I'll be agreeing soon.
The two of us, having a meeting dinner with a simple side dish, opened the entrance door and three men came in.
Slightly away from the Almarks, he leaned back to the table. All three of them have disappointed bodies.
One of the clerks who came to hear the order asked for something, and the other two are silent.
As the clerk left, he started discussing something in a low voice.
Almark's eyes get thinner when he sees the three of them.
... a mercenary.
I still don't know if it's a mercenary.
But Almark's well-known smell.
Men who had fought as mercenaries in the north.
The discomfort of seeing men like them in the south and the strange nostalgia.
Almark watched them as he ate and saw them.
None of the three of them will be dusty or dusty when food or alcohol is brought in. Eating silently, sometimes, blurring and talking about something in a low voice.
Still they're mercenaries. Almark thought. It doesn't look like it's on another job. The atmosphere that surrounds you remains mercenary.
That's when one of the lively noisy guests of another group snagged his elbow and dropped his jock on the floor.
The sound of the glass breaking echoes and the store quiets back for a moment. But when I found out that that wasn't the beginning of the fight, just that the guests dropped the jock, the store quickly regained its original hustle and bustle.
The mercenary-style men continue to speak in a low voice, not even via the cracking noise of the jock.
As the clerk rushed to clean up the jock and watched the broken customer apologize as he was sorry, Morgen said,
"Uh, this is why drunks... Almark, let's finish eating and go back to your room"
and spoke to Almark, but noticed his expression, a little.
"Duh, what's wrong, Almark? You look so scary."
Pointed out by Morgen, Almark immediately smiled, but his expression remained irresistible.
An ominous hunch was spreading like a summer rain cloud on Almark's chest.
An earlier moment when the store was quiet.
Almark's sharp ears were listening to fragments of the words the mercenary-style man was speaking.
"Bar Herbs"
That's what the man said.