After a long ride—nearly seven hours—the carriage finally slowed.
Inside, Rowan leaned against the window, his palm resting on his cheek as he stared at the passing scenery. His eyes were half-lidded with exhaustion.
"Haaah… such a long journey," he muttered.
Elian glanced toward him. "Master, is anything wrong?"
"Nothing. It's nothing," Rowan replied lazily, straightening slightly.
Then—
The carriage passed through massive gates.
Tall white walls rose on both sides, stretching endlessly into the distance. Towering spires pierced the sky, their banners fluttering proudly in the wind. Training grounds spread across vast fields, where students could be seen practicing sword forms, their blades flashing under the sunlight.
The Royal Academy came into view.
Rowan's eyes widened.
His mouth slowly opened.
"…Wow."
He leaned forward, pressing closer to the window.
"This is actually really big. This is huge," he said in awe. "So this is the Royal Academy for Swordsmen…"
