Chapter 238: Road To Riverdale

The long, winding road connecting Greyvale and Riverdale unfurled across the landscape like a pale ribbon laid gently on the earth, gracefully curving around rolling hills that rose and fell in patient waves.

Their slopes were cloaked in late-summer green, adorned with wildflowers that danced lightly in the wind.

Above, the sky stretched vast and unbroken, a luminous blue dome streaked with drifting clouds that moved lazily, as if time itself had slowed to savor the quiet beauty of the countryside.

Sunlight poured generously over the land, gilding the tips of tall grasses and casting elongated shadows that rippled across the road with every passing breeze.

On either side of the road stood clusters of silver-barked trees gathered in loose groves, their leaves whispering secrets to one another as they swayed.

Beyond them, distant mountains loomed like silent guardians watching over the fertile plains below. A narrow stream wound alongside parts of the road, its clear waters glinting beneath sunlight and reflecting fragments of the sky.

Occasionally, flocks of small birds would burst from the brush in startled flight, their wings beating sharp rhythms against the day’s serenity before settling back into the embrace of the hills.

It was a road that invited reflection, a path long enough for thoughts to stretch and unwind yet vibrant enough to remind any traveler that beyond city walls lay a beauty untouched by political scheming or bloodshed.

On this road rode two figures whose presence felt both harmonious and slightly absurd against such pastoral calm. Their mounts were no ordinary horses but magical beasts whose size and vitality made them symbols of power as much as they were modes of transportation.

Standing nearly three meters tall at their shoulders, these beasts boasted dense muscles moving fluidly beneath fur of a striking crimson hue, deep and rich like embers beneath ash, with manes streaming behind them in fiery strands that shimmered under sunlight.

Each deliberate step they took struck the ground with controlled strength, exuding disciplined ferocity rather than wild savagery; faint wisps of heat radiated from their broad flanks, subtly bending air around them as if they carried within their blood a trace of elemental fire.

Their eyes glowed faintly amber, intelligent and alert, scanning the horizon with a predator’s awareness even while responding to gentle reins held by their riders.

Steady plumes of breath escaped their nostrils only to dissipate quickly in warm air, leaving behind a fleeting scent reminiscent of scorched grass.

Seated atop one imposing creature was Boren, his fat figure secured within a reinforced saddle that creaked softly under his weight yet held firm without complaint.

Despite his cheeks bouncing slightly with each stride and beads of perspiration gathering along his brow on this mild day, there was an unmistakable determination in how he gripped the reins, his posture upright and gaze fixed ahead with earnestness masking nervous flutterings within his chest.

Beside him rode Valeria, her posture straight and poised as if she were carved from steel rather than flesh. Her dark hair streamed behind her in a disciplined cascade, and her expression was as impassive as the blade at her side.

While Boren’s presence seemed almost comical against the grandeur of the magical beast they rode, Valeria appeared born for such a mount. Her movements were economical and precise, and her stillness radiated contained lethality.

The wind tugged playfully at Boren’s loose sleeves and fluttered the edges of Valeria’s cloak with crisp, deliberate motions. For a time, the only sounds between them were the rhythmic thunder of hooves and the soft sigh of grass bowing beneath their passage.

Valeria broke the silence first, her voice cutting through the air with a clarity that carried neither warmth nor hostilit, —just a detached sharpness that demanded an answer.

“So,” she said without turning her head, keeping her eyes fixed on the horizon ahead, “why did you make me your bodyguard for this trip to Riverdale City?”

The question hung between them like a weight, causing Boren to tighten his grip on the reins reflexively.

He swallowed hard before daring to glance sideways at her profile, which remained unyielding and unreadable.

A sheepish smile tugged at his lips as he wiped sweat from his round face with the back of his sleeve; however, it did little to ease the anxiety coiling in his stomach.

“Please don’t kill me,” he replied in a tone that wavered somewhere between jest and genuine fear, his voice uneven against the wind. “It wasn’t my idea, I swear! It was our boss who left those instructions. I know how much you dislike… well, my kind of gender, but I’m just following orders.”

At last, Valeria turned her gaze toward him with an intensity that could have frozen a lesser man in place.

She rolled her eyes with an exasperation that was almost elegant in its restraint. “I hate men,” she said flatly,”but that doesn’t mean I kill them on sight.”

“Sigh.” Boren let out a nervous chuckle that sounded suspiciously like a squeak while scratching the back of his head as if hoping it might deflect some of her intensity; yet his heart continued to pound against his ribs so forcefully he wondered if she could hear it over their mounts’ hoofbeats.

After all, Valeria wasn’t just any knight; she was a living weapon wrapped in human form whose very aura hummed with restrained violence.

The knowledge that someone who openly harbored disdain for men was now assigned as his personal guard did little to soothe his imagination, he couldn’t shake images of his head rolling unceremoniously across the road should he utter even one careless word.

“Then why Riverdale?” Valeria asked after a moment, her tone shifting from irritation to professional curiosity.

Boren’s expression sobered as he cleared his throat, adjusting himself in the saddle to appear more composed than terrified.

“It’s in the book,” he replied, the humor fading from his features as he focused on the path ahead.

“The boss left detailed instructions. He said the Guild needs to expand; we can’t stay confined to Greyvale if we want to survive what’s coming. Riverdale City is marked as a priority for one of our new branches.”

Valeria absorbed this without showing much reaction, her gaze narrowing slightly as if she was weighing the implications rather than just listening to the words. After a brief silence, she nodded in acknowledgment.

“And I am your bodyguard because…?” she pressed again, her persistence causing Boren’s lips to twitch in exasperation even as he fought to maintain a neutral expression.

Inwardly, he groaned at her insistence on revisiting that point but kept his demeanor respectful, his voice carefully measured as he responded, “The boss anticipated resistance. Opening new branches won’t be welcomed by everyone, some cities have noble factions that won’t appreciate our presence. He wrote that I shouldn’t travel alone and that if trouble arises, it should be dealt with quickly and decisively.”

He let his words hang deliberately in the air; their unspoken meaning lingered like a drawn blade glinting in sunlight.

Valeria glanced at him briefly before returning her focus to the road. Though her face remained composed, there was a slight shift in her posture that indicated understanding; she didn’t need further explanation to grasp what he meant.

Trouble would come, and when it did, she would be there to handle it. The wind carried their silence forward like an invisible cloak around them both.

Boren released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, feeling his heart rate gradually settle into something more manageable as they continued along the gently curving road.

For a time, neither spoke, the only sounds were the steady rhythm of their mounts and the distant rustle of grass bending under unseen currents but this quiet felt less strained than before, as if an unspoken agreement had been reached between them.

After a while, as the hills began sloping more gently and distant rooftops hinted at Riverdale’s outskirts beyond the horizon, Boren ventured another comment with tentative amusement threading through his tone.

“There’s one more thing,” he said while glancing sideways at Valeria before quickly looking ahead again. “While we’re in Riverdale, the boss instructed us to collect some compensation.”

Valeria raised an eyebrow slightly, a subtle gesture conveying both skepticism and curiosity and allowed a moment of silence before responding.

“Compensation?” she echoed sharply.

Boren nodded, wiping his forehead again as if just mentioning it raised his temperature.

“He didn’t go into detail,” he admitted, “but he hinted that someone in Riverdale owe the Guild for… past troubles. He said it wouldn’t make sense to expand without first securing what’s already ours.”

Valeria paused for a moment longer than usual, then let out a faint, almost incredulous sigh as she shook her head slowly. The corners of her mouth tightened in a way that suggested reluctant admiration.

“Even in a coma,” she muttered under her breath, “that greedy bastard is still plotting. What a greedy bastard.”

Boren’s lips twitched at her blunt assessment. While he didn’t dare agree out loud, he couldn’t help but acknowledge the truth of it in his mind; Sage’s knack for opportunistic brilliance was as defining as his audacity. The fact that his schemes continued to unfold even while he lay unconscious felt entirely fitting.

The road stretched ahead of them, shimmering softly under the afternoon sun.

As the crimson beasts carried them steadily toward Riverdale City, the weight of their mission settled more heavily on their shoulders not just the task of expansion but also executing a vision crafted by a man whose greed and foresight were so intertwined that it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.

The wind pressed against them, urging them onward into whatever lay beyond the hills. Neither rider spoke again; there was nothing more to say that wouldn’t unravel the tension quietly coiled beneath the surface of their journey.

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