The train moved with exceptional smoothness. If it weren't for the scenery constantly rushing past the window, Roland would have barely sensed any movement at all.
Scorched battlefields, weathered Giant Stones, desolate wastelands...
Everything slid backward as smoothly as an unrolling scroll, without the slightest jolt or tremor.
Pulling his gaze from the window, Roland began to carefully inspect the train's interior.
The carriage's interior was surprisingly spartan, yet every detail hinted at an exquisite craftsmanship far beyond this era.
The walls were made of some kind of warm, milky-white material, its surface shimmering with incredibly fine patterns of light that brightened and dimmed as if breathing.
There were no traditional seats. Instead, a dozen or so curved seats hovered in mid-air, their surfaces covered by a soft Force Field.
