As the seemingly endless caravan slowly rolled into the vicinity of Newly Town, the entire town fell silent.
Captain of the Guard Barrett stood on the town wall, his single eye wide with shock.
'What in the world was he seeing?'
The wagons were covered with heavy oilcloths, their wheels carving deep ruts into the road—a clear sign of heavy cargo.
The people walking with the caravan weren't ordinary drivers, either. They wore uniform, dark-blue artisan's attire, with a golden sail embroidered on the chest.
Their steady gait and focused eyes marked them as master craftsmen.
There were even three figures in Alchemist robes among them, two of whom were speaking in low voices with a white-bearded old man at the head of the group.
"My heavens... Wasn't Lord Velin supposed to be on 'disaster relief'?" Barrett muttered, forgetting to tuck the wineskin in his hand back into his belt.
'Is he... bringing back the Golden Sail Commerce Association's entire Alchemy Workshop?'
