A pleasant humming sound can be heard. The song is sung in time with the clattering of horse hooves striking the ground. From the swaying saddle, there's no rush to hasten along the path, nor any trace of desperation as if being chased—only the leisurely sound of a song fills the air.
"How are you, Leska? The load is heavier than usual—are you alright?"
Leben leaned down to ask Leska. With a short snort, Leska replied, quickening the pace as if the slightly heavier burden posed no challenge at all.
The profit Burro earned from selling mana stones in Bucure was substantial. Unlike other mana stone merchants, Burro had gone the extra road, traveling the rugged eastern road from Ves-Dinas, winding through rocky mountain paths to reach Bucure. Before arriving, Burro drove the wagon, passing the time by mentally rehearsing retorts to merchants who'd try to haggle down the price of the mana stones and imagining the number of gold and silver coins he'd hold once the deal was done.
But an unexpected stroke of luck found Burro. The usual mana stone merchants who supplied Bucure hadn't shown up, leaving the city with a dire shortage of mana stones. Even merchants from nearby cities in the Rensillore region had come to Bucure, desperate to secure the stones to meet overwhelming demand, but their efforts were fruitless. They watched the wagons entering the city with anxious hope, praying that this time, one might carry mana stones. It was precisely then that Burro's wagon rolled through the city gates into Bucure.
Later, it became clear that the mana stone shortage wasn't limited to Bucure—it spanned all of Rensillore. The reason, surprisingly, wasn't anything grand. Rumors had spread that Darabai, in the southern County of Diat, was buying up mana stones in bulk, offering double or even triple the usual price. Believing the rumors, every mana stone merchant had rushed south, leaving Rensillore without suppliers.
A smile never left Burro's face. When he considered the time and cost of traveling to Darabai, selling in Bucure proved far more profitable. It wasn't quite a 'name your price' situation, but the earnings were enough for him to thank the goddess he rarely thought of and share the windfall with his longtime companion, Leben, in high spirits.
With this unexpected haul of gold coins in hand, the first thing Leben spent the money on was new horse armor for Leska, which he'd been using in jousting tournaments for the past few years.
The horse armor Leska had worn until now was a lightweight chainmail-like piece, made of leather and small iron plates, designed to protect Leska from shattered lance fragments and glancing blows in jousting matches. But it was worn and frayed from years of use, and Leska's coat often got caught in the gaps between the iron pieces, which had always troubled Leben. Thanks to the generous income this time, he bought a sturdy set of horse armor made of solid iron plates.
Leben also purchased a specialized left shoulder armor for jousting. Crafted to shield the left shoulder and upper body—the areas most exposed to attacks during tournaments—he had it custom-fitted at a renowned forge in Bucure to pair with his existing armor from Sir Allan. After the adjustments, he set off toward Ves-Dinas.
Now, on the road heading west to Ves-Dinas, Leben hummed a tune, his newly acquired shoulder armor gleaming on display. Polished and adorned with radiating fluting lines to deflect lances, its surface reflected the sunlight, standing out sharply among his older armor pieces.
Bucure, the largest city in Rensillore, is surrounded by iron-rich mountains, making it a famed source of high-quality iron within the kingdom. Its reputation was such that the city was ordered to pay 500 stone (kg) of iron ingots annually in lieu of some taxes.
With his new armor and horse gear forged from Bucure's superior iron, Leben was in high spirits, eager to test their performance on the journey ahead. Wearing the jousting shoulder armor even before reaching Ves-Dinas was partly due to his excitement, but also to acclimate his body to the new equipment as quickly as possible.
He needed to adjust to the slight imbalance caused by the asymmetrical armor—not just while standing on solid ground, but while riding, especially during the charging gallop of a jousting match. So, Leben and Leska traveled toward Ves-Dinas, working to adapt to this new sensation.
"Leska, I bought some dried venison yesterday—and these dried grapes came with it. Here, try one."
At the sound of Leben's voice, Leska turned and leaned toward the handful of dried grapes he offered, lips parting slightly.
"How are they? The grapes around Bucure are known for their flavor—small, but sweet and fragrant."
Neigh
Leben smiled at Leska's delighted neigh. Reaching into the saddlebag, he pulled out another handful of dried grapes.
"They say these grapes are unique to Rensillore, and their color is striking… What were they called again?"
Muttering to himself as he eyed the pinkish dried grapes in his hand, he picked a few and popped them into his mouth.
Snort
"Alright, I'll give you some more—don't rush me~"
Leben handed Leska another fistful of dried grapes, then leaned back against the saddle. He shrugged his left shoulder, rotating it to adjust to the still-unfamiliar armor.
"Let's go, Leska. We need to reach the Mavenn Gateway Fortress by today."
*****
The Mavenn Gateway Fortress is a small stronghold on the westernmost edge of the Norend County in the Rensillore region, situated between Ves-Dinas and Bucure.
Serving as the gateway to Rensillore, this fortress was built long ago during the war with Krukuut. Back then, it was a vital outpost, overlooking the vast western forests and plains to watch over Krukuut's invasions. But after a long time, it had deteriorated into little more than an old stone gate blocking the path over a high rocky hill, teetering on the edge of ruin.
An abandoned fortress, it was no longer guarded by soldiers. Instead, crows perched atop its walls, cawing and tilting their heads as they watched passersby, lending the place an air of desolation and bleakness—until someone breathed life back into it.
That someone was Baron Lizton, a baron of a modest estate. He paid a sum to the House Norend—the ruling house of Rensillore—and received ownership of the Mavenn Gateway Fortress under the guise of a 'gift.' Under the pretext of managing it for an extended period, Baron Lizton became its new master.
Baron Lizton was a resourceful man. Thrust into the role of head of House Lizton at a young age, his first task was to transform the tiny village of Chalais, with barely 100 residents, into a prosperous place that could hold its own against other territories.
His initial focus was securing a stable food supply. He introduced improved farming techniques and tools to grow wheat, barley, and other crops to feed his people, and hired a mage capable of casting spells to restore the soil's fertility.
Though not fond of reading, Baron Lizton spent the longest stretch of his life in the grand library of Ves-Dinas, poring over books to bring new tools and farming methods to Chalais. His efforts weren't driven by grand ideals of happiness or stability for his people. Rather, they stemmed from a personal desire—a quiet ambition, perhaps—to live a peaceful, comfortable life with moderate luxuries as he aged. Yet, his pragmatic approach ensured his plans were executed soundly, and the villagers of Chalais reaped the benefits, warmed by his schemes like huddling by a fire on a cold day.
Whatever his motives, within a few years, the small village of Chalais had transformed. Its outskirts were now filled with sprawling fields of crops, its population had grown, dozens of new homes had been built, and a windmill with eight massive blades powered a flour mill at the village's edge.
Chalais had become a place that lacked nothing compared to neighboring towns and cities. But for Baron Lizton, this was still far from the future he envisioned. 'A village where farming is just a bit better and the people have enough to eat without worrying about winter isn't enough.' he thought.
"I need more money."
To collect more taxes, he needed more residents; for more residents, he needed more jobs. Expanding fields for wheat, barley, carrots, or turnips had its limits.
Thus, Baron Lizton conceived the idea of cultivating Dragon Mint—a specialty of Chalais that would later earn him the nickname 'Toothpowder Baron.'
Chalais had no nearby forests teeming with wildlife, nor mountains with mines to yield mana stones, gold, silver, or even coal. It wasn't positioned on a major trade route between large cities. Its only advantage was its vast flatland. Baron Lizton chose to capitalize on this by expanding the fields and enhancing the quantity and quality of crops to sell—a path to revitalize Chalais.
The story of how he began cultivating Dragon Mint is a brief but telling one.
While sitting at a corner table on the second floor of a tavern famed for its beer brewed from Chalais's barley, he clutched his aching head, wracking his brain for ways to generate more income for the village. Thanks to the mage from the Temple of Hidden Moon who restored the soil's fertility and the hardworking villagers, Chalais had an abundance of crops. He considered importing dwarven distillation equipment to make spirits or raising livestock—cows, pigs, or horses—with the surplus produce.
But none of these ideas ignited the certainty or inspiration he sought. No perfect scheme to make money came to mind.