The carriage rolled to a stop, and I pushed myself upright off the cushioned seat and hopped down onto the gravel path outside.
And the moment I did, every muscle in my back filed an immediate and comprehensive complaint about the previous forty-five minutes.
[Carriages are bumpy…] I thought, working my shoulder in a slow rotation, [… no matter which one you get.]
-Ding!
{The Shop has a substantial catalogue of carriages specifically designed for a smooth riding experience.}
[Huh...] I looked at the estate gate ahead of us, at the stone wall and the curved tile and the mana lamps already lit inside. [Maybe I should invest in one. Get a horse, a driver, the whole young master starter kit...]
The evening air was clean here in a way that New Shinkotsu's air generally was not.
Old Shinkotsu was less charcoal smoke and pressed people, and more old wood and pine and whatever it was Kisho had blooming in his gardens behind the wall.
