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v4c52

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Long Road, Fragments of the Past (7)

Before evening, Brendel had a map of the hidden routes the hunters had taken into the forest. Thanks to the bald innkeeper selling publicity, or better yet, intimidation. Knowing that each of these secret trails in the forest, known only to the hunters, had been handed down from generation by generation by the hunters of the region, it would have been almost impossible to hand them over to outsiders if it was not for the safety of his family.

Of course, the identity of Count Brendel and the Royal Cavalry also played a big role. The common people always had a subconscious understanding that a nobleman did not need their secrets.

On the contrary, hearing that another knight from the royalty was going to rescue their loved ones, these people were so grateful that they even offered to be Brendel’s guide, but Brendel declined. It was not that he thought he would know the northern forest better than the locals, it was just that it was not worth it taking a burden with him for the sake of this little convenience.

On the contrary, hearing that another knight from the royal family was going to rescue their loved ones, these people were so grateful that they even offered to be Brendel’s guide, but Brendel declined – it wasn’t that he thought he could know the northern forest better than the locals, it was just that – it was more than worth taking a burden with him for the sake of this little convenience.

It was fast approaching sunset.

The red sun was dipping into the mountains on the western shore of Lake Vallendaren, and the setting sun was tinting the world in a golden red haze. In the twilight, a mere caravan of wagons was leaving the north gate of Shallow Water Town. Brendel was riding his horse at the front of the procession along the crescent shaped beach of the lake, his shadow stretched out by the setting sun as if it were a silhouette of the eerie north Anserra forest ahead.

Brendel looked up at the forest buried beneath the shadows of the mountains, like a thousand nails arranged upward in a dark canopy layer that stretched all the way down to the gray background of Goldfinch Mountain, a vast forest of cedars.

A series of hoofs galloping sounded behind their ears.

Brendel turned sideways and back to see a bright purple. Ciel’s robes fluttered slightly in the evening breeze, straddling a chestnut-colored horse that had come up from behind. Highland Mages were compared to other schools of wizardry because of a period of apprenticeship as a knight. Therefore, they had more or less mastered the art of horsemanship. This young mage was undoubtedly the best of them.

“Hey, Lord.” Ciel’s fair hand gripped the reins with one hand and held his staff with another. Giving his characteristic greeting, “I just got something interesting that you’ll want to see.”

Brendel did not bother to look at the grinning fellow. The eastern sky was fading slightly in the lat

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