Lucien, Gaya and Adrian, on the strong backs of three Horned Stallions, set out to the Frontiers of the Rhamira Kingdom.

Despite the fact that they were using mounts, their journey took more than a day, but it was still more plentiful than walking by foot, which would have taken two or three days.

The rays of sun that were glittering and beating the earth beneath were sweet and gentle. The weather, while cold, was not harshly cold. It was a very good morning, and the bright sky even looked happy; the clouds drifted in clusters, albeit slowly.

But it looked like very stormy weather was not too far away.

That, though, was information that did not concern everybody. People loved to deal with the rain when it comes, not before. But they had no idea that rain comes with a lot of problems.

Lucien was standing on a hill with grass flooding the plain like a carpet of greenery.

He was looking at the downhill—which was his destination. This place was positioned in the foremost region of the Rhamira Federation. The forest that Lucien was looking at surrounded another city of Rhamira, called Woodswoven.

The city itself did not shine as brightly as Vel'Rhameir, the capital of Rhamira, but the Federation's distinctive culture that was seen through the edifices in their city was shining through every structure; it was there, albeit suppressed.

Adrian joined him as he stared down at the woods surrounding Woodswoven.

"What are you looking at?"

Lucien lingered. Then he breathed.

"I'm just thinking about the naming sense of some people…"

Adrian looked at him with some measure of carefulness and also spoke with the same measure.

"And… why do you say that?"

Lucien shrugged.

"I mean… who names a city Woodswoven… the name is so obvious."

Adrian sighed and looked forward.

"Well… Woodswoven is a city special unlike the other cities of Rhamira. It is the beginning of Rhamira, and the strongest forte of the federation."

Lucien looked at the city dubiously. Then he folded his arms.

"That makes no sense… if it was that important, it would have been their capital city."

Adrian looked at him with a bit of interest.

"How so?"

Lucien shrugged again, answering with a nonchalant tone.

"Because it is the most important?"

Adrian smiled.

"Well, in diplomacy, that is a very naive reason. The capital of a kingdom is not decided by importance alone. They have to consider the strategic location, landmass, and it has to not just be important, or be the strongest. It has to be the center; it might not be strong, but can it connect other cities together."

Lucien looked down thoughtfully and nodded.

"Hmm, you are actually making some sense."

He suddenly looked at Adrian—with suspicion.

Adrian raised a puzzled brow.

"What?"

Lucien squinted his eyes.

"How do you know politics so well? You wouldn't be having a family secret like your father being a king or something like that."

Adrian laughed.

"What? I wish… right now, I would have a large bar of my own where all I do is mix exotic wines from different continents."

Lucien looked at him with a warm smile, causing Adrian to return his gaze strangely again.

"What again?"

Lucien chuckled and shook his head.

"Nothing at all. You are just so transparent. It's convenient."

Adrian frowned unpleasantly.

"What do you mean by that?"

Lucien waved him away.

"Nothing for you to worry about."

He fixed his focus on the forest surrounding the city.

"The City's importance—is it tied to the forest?"

Adrian, who was glaring angrily before, withdrew and also let his gaze fall on the forest. He spoke without any indignation.

"Well, yes… and no, it's because of the Wood Barbarians."

Lucien dropped his head in disappointment.

"Could the name be any worse?"

Adrian shot him a defensive glare.

"What? Wood Barbarians have nothing to do with the city being Woodswoven. They are a race of human beings that have existed for about sixteen thousand years."

Lucien looked at him with intense interest.

"Oh! Tell me about that!"

Adrian's eyes narrowed faintly as though he were peering through time itself.

"They are not just savages hacking at trees and roaring at the moon, Cien. The Wood Barbarians were once the lifeblood of this land. Sixteen thousand years ago, before the Federation even bore its first crown, these forests were theirs. They carved their history into bark and stone, lived in harmony with the land, and fought like storms when intruders dared step too far."

Lucien tilted his head, curiosity kindling in his gaze.

"And now?"

Adrian's lips curved into a wry line.

"Now, they are the Federation's shadow. Not quite enemies, not quite allies. They bow to no king, but neither do they seek to conquer. They linger in the deepwoods, and every few decades, one of their tribes emerges—sometimes to trade, sometimes to raid, sometimes simply to remind us that the roots of Rhamira don't belong to the crown, but to the soil."

Lucien tapped his chin with one finger, his expression thoughtful yet mischievous.

"So, let me get this straight. We're marching into a city named Woodswoven, which is surrounded by a forest tied to a bunch of tree-hugging warriors who hate crowns and occasionally pop out like mushrooms after a storm?"

Adrian winced.

"…More or less."

Gaya, who had been silent all this time, finally snorted from atop her stallion.

"You two speak too much nonsense. The Wood Barbarians are neither quaint mushrooms nor relics of bark and stone. They are warriors, Lucien—feral, untamed, and dangerous. I heard one once split a man in half with nothing but a sharpened branch."

Lucien's grin broadened.

"Oh, now that sounds like fun."

Adrian groaned softly.

"Only you would call that fun."

The three of them fell into silence for a moment as the distant treeline swayed under the breeze. A low rustle carried over the hills, and for the briefest second, Lucien thought he saw figures moving between the trees—shadows too tall to be deer, too steady to be the wind.

He blinked, then smirked to himself.

"Tell me, Adrian… when was the last time one of those tribes 'emerged'?"

Adrian's face stiffened.

"…Seven years ago. And the Federation has been waiting for the next sign ever since."

Lucien narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

"Well then, if they are such unstable partners, why are the authorities of the federation still letting them be? Won't it be worth killing them, so Rhamira can finally breathe easy and expect no box of surprises every now and then?"

Adrian shook his head.

"I don't think it is that easy."

Lucien frowned attentively.

"Why?"

"Well, they are tradition… they are the founder's legacy; they in fact founded the federation together. They are the reason why Rhamira is a federation, to tell the world that all races regardless of their path to evolution are welcomed. It's not like Skyland, where you have to be a race that has a thing or two to do with having wings, or Aquarius where you have to have a tail for them to let you in. Rhamira is an open nation and they are the openness.

"Just like there are people who can pop up in Rhamira who forget this, there are also people amongst the Barbarians who can forget it."

Adrian looked keenly at the forest.

"Moreover, they may be this troublesome, but at the end of the day they are the frontier of the nation. They are synonymous with a tower of defense that cannot crumble. Many nations that have tried to tame Rhamira have failed simply because of the Wood Barbarians."

Lucien opened his mouth slightly.

"Oh, that's okay… impressive. I guess they are quite strong… what level are they?"

Adrian was silent thoughtfully before he responded.

"I think the least should be around level 200. When a child of the Wood Barbarians is born, rumors say they start from level 200. Although these rumors are groundless, the Barbarians are very guarded about their culture and secrets, and we have never seen their young ones."

Lucien placed his hands over his eyes, squinting slightly.

"Oh? But I can see one right now."

Adrian frowned in disbelief. He quickly gazed forward, his eyes wide open, looking at the forest. He threw his head back to Lucien, stern.

"First of all… anyone that can see anything from this distance, Cien, should be an Eyeslow."

"Eyeslow? What is that?"

Gaya answered that one with a flat tone.

"A bird that can see anything from any distance. A very troublesome bird, let me add."

She looked at Adrian briefly before looking to the forest.

"But Lord Cien is correct. There is a boy in the forest."

Adrian frowned, confused.

"What? How can you see that?"

"I can't."

She looked at Lucien.

"But he can… he has very… troublesome eyes. And Lord Cien has no reason to be lying…"

Adrian glanced at both of them with his doubts. Then he focused on Lucien.

"Cien, what is the child doing? How does he look?"

Lucien observed for longer than a second.

"He looks like a teenager."

His expression became grim.

"And he's dying."

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