The carriage carrying Seongjin’s party had been running non-stop since dawn and arrived at a ruined village around noon. This must be the ‘Verdron’ that the coachmen mentioned.
“…It doesn’t seem like a place with proper residents.”
Masain said worriedly as he looked at the desolate village scenery.
Indeed, there were no intact buildings around. Collapsed bricks were piled up on roofless house sites, and broken oak barrels rolled around on the weed-infested roads.
Only the vast scale of the ruins hinted at the prosperity and glory that once was here.
“The imperials probably don’t know. The liquor brewed in this village was so excellent…….”
The coachman, who had been silent until now, muttered as she exhaled a puff of cigarette smoke.
The wagon she was driving ran through the ruins and finally stopped in front of a large barn. It was the only building in the village that still had something resembling a roof.
Creak.
As they opened the crumbling door and stepped inside, under the sparse sunlight filtering through the thin roof, an elderly man was standing.
“It is truly an honor that a distinguished person like you has personally used the Free Underground.”
He greeted them politely with a sociable smile.
Seongjin could intuitively tell that he was the one who had orchestrated this entire journey. He exuded an air of authority that suggested he could hold his own anywhere.
His graying…