The iron portcullis of Luvengart's southern gate rose with a heavy, noisy clatter. The same border guards who had processed his arrival more than a week ago now stood at attention.
Big smiles stretched from ear-to-ear, as their eyes glinted with admiration.
To them, Percival was still the lone conqueror of The Rending Marsh, the man who defeated the three biggest Guilds.
Since no Unawakened person particularly liked the Guilds, Percival was a hero all over again.
"Safe travels, Sir Hero!" one of the guards called out, offering a crisp salute.
Percival, despite his solemnity, responded to the man with a gesture of looking back. Then, he promptly spurred Argus forward, the skeletal steed's hooves striking the dirt with muffled thuds.
"We're on the roads yet again, Argus," Percival muttered. "What story awaits us in the next city, mhm?"
The bone horse neighed, thudding forward into the dry lands.
