Chapter Sixty-Three: The Plains of Trolora

"Neigh!"
A tall, magnificent steed let out a piercing cry—or rather, it was a savage roar, as it pulled a carriage at breakneck speed along a forest path.
Most horses run with a steady back, but this one’s stride was extraordinary: its forelegs swung in great arcs, reminiscent of a beast of prey lunging forward, while its hind legs landed precisely in the tracks left by the front. Its entire spine flexed with each leap, opening and closing like a drawn bow. Coupled with its strange, guttural roar, the horse gave the impression not of a domesticated animal, but of a wild beast cloaked in a horse’s skin!

The carriage, lightened by a spell cast by Procis, glided smoothly despite the rutted forest road. Sitting inside, Will felt not the slightest jolt or discomfort.
Emerging from his meditation, Will opened his eyes just in time to see Procis finish writing something on a piece of parchment. She folded it carelessly, waved her delicate pipe over the folded parchment, and in the blink of an eye, an eerie green flame sprang forth, reducing the parchment to ash in an instant before vanishing as quickly as it appeared.

The Azure Flame Transmission is a high-level spell, capable of delivering a written message instantaneously to any destination. Though practical, it is limited to items like letters or other documents.
Evidently, Procis had just used the Azure Flame Transmission.

“Want to learn it?”
Procis suddenly looked up at Will, her tone inviting, almost seductive, as she deftly pinched a bit of tobacco from her pouch, packed it into her pipe, and lit it. She inhaled deeply, exhaling a plume of bluish smoke.

The tobacco Procis favored was of a rare variety; rather than the harsh, acrid scent of common tobacco, it released a faint, herbaceous fragrance upon burning. Naturally, such luxury came with a steep price.

“Would you teach me?”
Will glanced at Procis, asking almost reflexively.

“Absolutely not!”
He had half-expected such a response—Procis would never be so generous as to teach him magic. Yet hearing it aloud still made him want to spit blood with frustration. This woman was clearly toying with him!

Will sighed and pursed his lips, turning away from Procis. He lifted the curtain of the carriage window, watching the scenery flash by in reverse as his thoughts drifted.

After parting ways with Chelsberg, Procis had made no move to return to the imperial capital. Instead, she’d dragged him due west for two days without a word of explanation. Even now, Will had no idea where she intended to take him.

“Miss Triss, could you at least tell me where we’re headed?”
At last, Will could not help but ask.

“To find an artifact.”
Procis replied with cool indifference.

“And why drag me along?”
Will tried to protest with a wry smile. He knew that sticking close to this woman would be the quickest way to find the artifact, but her constant presence meant he would always be under her scrutiny.

“Why?”
Procis gave a peculiar, low chuckle, her voice turning sly. “Hmph. You little scoundrel! You dared use me as a shield in front of that fat oaf! And every question I’ve asked you, your answers have been vague or outright lies. You know, I’m really not in the mood to be patient with you right now!”

As she spoke, a sudden flash of anger overtook her. She hurled a Binding spell at Will, and, still unsatisfied, rapped him sharply on the head several times with her ornate pipe. The blows stung, and Will yelped in pain.

Procis’s pipe was tipped with metal, and she showed no restraint. Immobilized by the spell, Will was powerless to dodge; after just two strikes, his vision swam with stars. He quickly cried out, “Wait! I had no choice with the fat man, and as for your questions—there are things I honestly don’t know. If I give you the wrong answer, what then?”

“Hard to say. Not a word you speak is believable,” Procis replied flatly, adjusting the brim of her oversized hat with two slender fingers. “And besides, you’re just a fourth-tier mage, yet you seem remarkably well-informed about the Staff of Los Yizigel. Isn’t that suspicious?”

Will stared at Procis, bracing for further argument, but her words silenced him before he could utter a sound.

“Still, it makes sense. A fellow who possesses seven magical attributes is bound to have his secrets, isn’t he?”

In an instant, Will’s face drained of color.
She’d seen through his seven-element constitution!

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

To the west of the Vira Empire lay a region officially known as the Trolar Plains; yet most of the continent’s people preferred to call it simply: the Wilds.

This wasn’t due to any poverty or barrenness. On the contrary, most of the Trolar Plains was dense forest, rich with rare herbs and timber. The land was abundant in minerals as well. By any measure, it was a territory overflowing with resources.

The real reason it was called the Wilds was that it was inhabited not by humans, but by nonhuman races.

Orcs, elves, dwarves, goblins, and the fae—five peoples who held sway over the Trolar Plains. For thousands of years, they had leveraged the region’s natural defenses to dominate the western expanse of the magical continent.

Every empire on the continent coveted the Trolar Plains' riches, but not a single one dared send troops to seize the Wilds from those fearsome races. Or rather, no empire had the courage to try.

Beyond the challenge of the dense forests, it was the formidable alliance of the five Wild races that made the task unthinkable for any would-be conqueror.