...
...
In the late spring, Black Pine Ridge finally shook off the chilly grip of winter, as the gentle hand of spring breeze took over.
In this most comfortable season, Markulu shed his heavy bear fur coat and sat on horseback, his gaze sweeping across the vast convoy.
The merchant convoy stretched like a giant dragon for hundreds of meters.
A dozen carriages rolled over the muddy dirt road, crossing the boundary between the town and Black Pine Ridge with a low creaking sound.
The carriages were loaded with grains, seeds, and various daily supplies, followed by hundreds of ragged refugees.
Around the convoy were fifty well-equipped soldiers, and behind them was a guard team selected from the refugees, clutching long spears and nervously watching everything around.
At this moment, scores of figures appeared in front of the convoy.
Markulu reined in his horse, his gaze fixed on the flag within the team ahead, then he looked up at the eagle circling in the sky.
