Chapter 239: Riverdale City [ 1 ]

Time flowed steadily, marked by the rhythmic sound of hoofbeats and the whisper of the wind. With mounts like theirs, the landscape transformed into a blur beneath them.

The two Second Order Minor Beast horses shot forward with relentless power and speed, each stride covering an impressive distance as if the very ground yielded to their might.

Towering three meters at the shoulder, their muscular bodies glistened with deep, burnished red fur, and when they galloped, the air around them hummed faintly from their sheer speed.

What would take ordinary travelers nearly a week of sore legs and restless nights passed in a blur for Boren and Valeria; in just two days, the rolling plains and scattered woods between Greyvale and their destination thinned out before giving way to the expansive western horizon where Riverdale City loomed like a crouched titan beside its waters.

As they crested a low hill, their mounts snorted warm vapor into the cool afternoon air. From this vantage point, Riverdale spread out below them in all its glory.

Even Boren, who prided himself on his practical nature, felt a weight settle in his chest at the sight.

The city’s walls rose high and thick, constructed from pale stone blocks fitted so tightly that even from afar they appeared seamless, a massive ring encircling countless rooftops that climbed and dipped like waves frozen mid-motion.

Four monumental gates punctuated these walls at each cardinal direction, flanked by towers where banners fluttered brightly against the clear sky.

From this height, Riverdale resembled a vast sleeping beast curled protectively around its treasure: to the east lay its lifeblood, the Twilight River, broad and winding, its waters shimmering in shifting bands of silver and muted gold as it curved alongside the city before disappearing into distant haze.

The river was no mere ribbon of water but a living artery pulsing with activity. Even from this distance, they could see docks jutting into its expanse, long wooden piers crowded with ships of various sizes and shapes whose masts rose like slender trees against the skyline.

Some vessels were low and wide for heavy cargo; others were narrow and swift with furled sails as crews shouted orders amidst organized chaos.

Barges drifted lazily near shore while larger ships maneuvered into position under skilled hands wielding poles and hooks. The constant ebb and flow lent an energy to the river that mirrored that of Riverdale itself.

It was said that the Twilight River carried nearly half of the Kingdom’s commerce, connecting distant regions and even neighboring lands beyond the Evergreen Region.

Watching the bustling traffic now, it was easy to believe that claim. Riverdale’s nickname, the City of Gold, wasn’t just poetic pride; it was a straightforward truth.

Riverdale stood as Greyvale’s closest rival in the Evergreen Region. Although both cities were similar in size, there was a distinct difference in their demeanor that even a casual observer could sense.

Greyvale felt sturdy and grounded, built on ancient stone and long-standing traditions, its streets alive with guild banners and mercenary bravado. In contrast, Riverdale appeared to lean toward the river, as if perpetually listening for the next ship’s horn and always ready to embrace profit and opportunity.

The distance between the two cities was significant enough that most ordinary folk would think twice before making the journey, five to six days on foot or in a slow caravan but for Warriors and those with powerful mounts, that distance shrank considerably.

For Boren and Valeria, it had been little more than a brief inconvenience; for Valeria alone, at her true speed without restraint, the space between them might as well have not existed at all. To a Knight of her caliber, land was merely something to traverse not an obstacle.

Boren took a slow breath, his round face flushed from riding but his eyes sharp as he surveyed the city below.

There was calculation in his gaze, a reflex of someone who measured places by opportunity and danger rather than beauty, but even he couldn’t deny Riverdale’s imposing presence.

Beside him sat Valeria upright in her saddle with effortless poise; her crimson hair whipped by the wind while her expression remained unchanged, as if she were observing a minor town instead of one of the region’s wealthiest cities.

The silence between them lingered momentarily not uncomfortable but filled with unspoken understanding about what lay ahead. Finally, Boren cleared his throat and gestured toward the distant gates.

“It’s getting late, let’s enter the city,” he said lightly, though a hint of tension crept into his tone. “No point admiring the walls from here; our real business is inside.”

Valeria didn’t respond immediately. Her gaze traced along the Twilight River then shifted to the docks and walls, as if memorizing exits and vantage points in one sweeping glance.

Only after that did she nudge her mount forward with a gentle pressure from her heel; her massive beast responded without hesitation. Boren followed suit as they descended the hill onto the main road leading toward the western gate.

As they drew closer, traffic thickened around them. Caravans creaked under heavy loads, wagons piled high with crates marked by unfamiliar symbols, some bearing stamps from distant cities and towns while others came from inland provinces rarely visited by the region’s traders.

Merchants clad in layered robes walked alongside their goods, shouting instructions to their guards

The scene was bustling with travelers, ordinary folk with packs slung over their shoulders, fishermen guiding carts laden with baskets draped in damp cloth, and warriors displaying their weapons openly at their sides.

The air was thick with a medley of scents: dust, leather, sweat, and a sharper, brinier aroma that intensified as they approached the gates, the unmistakable smell of fish and river water.The sight of two massive red-furred mounts caught everyone’s attention. Conversations paused, eyes widened, and even the guards shifted uneasily as Boren and Valeria drew near.

2nd Order Minor Beasts were not typical mounts for everyday travelers; their presence alone signaled that their riders were individuals of significance or strength.

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