Sitting in the back of one of the carts, I leaned against a crate of dyes, each bottle inside worth a small fortune. Jacob, Prin's grandson, specialized in artisan goods, not the least of which was Aranth's near-legendary dyes, made from plants and various animal parts. Magic could replicate the shades well-enough, but some nobility saw it almost as a mark of prestige to have honest, hand-crafted goods.

No doubt, they hoped that the Tinkerers would have similar notions.

As I flipped through the Sion family book again, I spun a knife between my fingers, twirling it absent-mindedly. I had grown much more powerful, but I was still not satisfied with my rate of development. If I was stuck traveling at a snails-pace, I might as well make the most of my time.

Unfortunately, reading the same few pages a dozen times over did not bring me any closer to a solution. Letting out a sigh, I shook my head, half-throwing the book down beside me as I leaned back and closed my eyes. Though I was confident in my intelligence and ability to learn, improving Iron Forging with limited magical training was difficult at best.

Having trouble?

Without opening my eyes, I replied, "Does not take a genius to notice as much. I might have underestimated how much trouble developing my method would cause."

I doubt I can be much help. I am no mage, and what little I know from Cortos' era would be of little use.

I decided to finally look at the feline, who sat atop one of the crates, curled in a ball.

"Not a problem. I think I would prefer to develop and improve my techniques, at least partly on my own. I doubt there will be many suitable techniques for my specific needs."

Well, I will leave you to ponder your problems. Wake me when we stop for the night.

"Thanks for your assistance," I muttered under my breath, but if the feline heard me, he did not respond.

After a few seconds, I straightened up, looking to one side as grasslands passed at an almost painful pace. Our speed was faster than walking on foot, but only just. For what felt like the hundredth time, I reminded myself that safety was more important than haste.

Farms and small houses dotted the horizon, but those would soon give way to flatlands and eventually sandy dunes. Stretching out my senses, I scanned as far as possible, finding no trace of any mages or beasts for that matter.

As dusk began to fall, the caravan came to a halt, shuffling to one side of the road at a clearing of packed dirt. I jumped from the back of my cart, stretching tight muscles as I glanced around at the group. Several guards glanced at me, but none said anything, and I spotted more than one shaking their heads.

Before I could ponder their barely-disguised hostility, Darius approached me with a smile.

"How you feeling? Regret signing up for guard duty yet?" he asked with a smile. Although it was disguised as a joke, I suspected there was some honest curiosity in his words. Most of the people here clearly assumed I was a spoiled noble, unsuited for extended travel. I would need to change that opinion if I was to remain welcome in this caravan.

Shaking my head, I replied, "Not a problem yet. I have spent enough time on the road to deal with a little discomfort."

Nodding, Darius folded his arms across his chest, responding, "Fair enough. Walk with me, and we can get you something for dinner.

My meal for the night was a simple dinner, comprised of a hearty soup, some bread, and dried meats. Eating alone in the corner, I watched as the crowd of dozens of talked and socialized. Several pulled out instruments, stringing together simple tunes by campfires.

As I sat on a rock, noting the gap between the rest of the group and me, I felt a brief pang in my chest. Maybe I should have stayed in Volaris, and remained with my friends? At least in the city, I would not eat dinner alone.

Pushing aside my frustrations, I finished my meal, subtly using Amelia's ring to clean myself off afterward. Standing, I spotted a half-dozen guards standing in a semi-circle nearby. Two stood in the center, dressed in casual clothing with fists raised.

At some unspoken signal, they closed towards one another, fists lashing out. Light punches bounced off of shoulders and chests, narrowly missing their faces. A short grapple would take place every few seconds as one grabbed the other's arms, only to shake off the grip. In short, it was messy, clumsy, and violent but far more realistic than the formal affairs most nobles preferred.

"Interested in participating?" a voice said from behind me, and I turned to see Darius standing a few feet away.

"Maybe after I know what they are doing," I responded with a smirk, gesturing towards the group.

"Practice, of course. I restrict it to bare-handed fights or wooden weapons to avoid any serious injuries but letting the men spar keeps their skills sharp. Besides that, some exercise helps them let off stress from months on the road. Constant travel has a way of wearing on men."

Without letting the smile cross my face, I nodded, replying, "Absolutely. Lead the way."

Darius laughed, placing a hand on my shoulder before jerking his head towards the group.

"Alright, you lot. Lucas here decided he wants to try his hand against one of you. Who wants the first fight?"

Several of them scanned me, more than one shaking their head or laughing. Although my pride bristled at the insult, logically, I knew I could not blame them. Even in my cloak and armor, I did not strike much of an imposing figure. I might have gone through a growth spurt, but I was still only just around average height with a slim build.

Still, though I might have mostly moved past any ego issues, I was far from immune to insult or anger. Smiling at their laughter, I turned to Darius, asking, "May we fight with staves?"

Raising an eyebrow, he nodded, responding, "Yeah, you can. I allow wooden practice swords and staves, as long as you avoid strikes to the head and keep the force low enough to avoid broken bones."

Nodding, I replied, "Then I challenge you, Darius."

For a moment, a shadow crossed his face, and I worried I had insulted the man. He stared at me, replying in a terse tone, "It might be a better choice to pick someone a bit closer to your skill level."

Shaking my head, I retorted, "Which is why I picked you. I have no doubt you are the most skilled warrior of the bunch, and it would be an honor to learn from you."

At this point, most of them, Darius included, seemed to view me as an inexperienced, spoiled brat. If I planned to travel with them, I needed to engender some degree of respect from them. The best way to do that might be to show I can handle myself in a duel. After all, a guard should prove that they are skilled in battle.

Sighing, Darius did not respond for several seconds. Finally, he nodded, stating, "Don't say I did not warn you."

Motioning for two staves, Darius tossed me one before flourishing his own in an intricate pattern. I watched his moves, the unfamiliar moves somewhat confusing as I took up a ready stance. Maybe I would actually learn something from him.

Shifting his weight, he stepped towards me, a simple low stab aimed towards my solar plexus. While it was a touch clumsier than Amelia's moves, he struck with evident speed and skill. Unfortunately for him, I was faster, and I stepped to one side, letting the strike slide along the edge of my staff as I entered his range.

Recognizing my move, Darius pivoted, the other end of his weapon lashing out in a short strike, aimed at my shoulder. I saw it coming from a mile away and could have dodged it, but that would reveal my inhuman speed. With a faked grunt, I ducked a half-second too slow, turning it into a glancing blow that bounced off my staff.

Stumbling with the attack, I spun my staff, sweeping it low along the ground. Jumping over it, Darius advanced again, his weapon lashing out several times in probing strikes that I turned aside with my own. His strikes were slower than the style Sig taught me, but I knew from just a short exchange that it was an effective strategy.

This continued for several minutes, with each of us trading blows at one another at mounting speed and ferocity. I was careful to hold back enough so that Darius maintained a slight edge, purposefully working flaws in my technique to give off a particular appearance. I wanted to appear skilled and experienced, but not too much of either.

Finally, after nearly fifteen minutes of constant battle, Darius shouted, "Hold!" as he stepped out of reach. Sweat poured down his forehead, but he had a smile on his face.

"It seems I might owe you an apology. Truthfully, I assumed you were just arrogant, but you have the skills to back up your ego."

"Thank you, sir, but you clearly won that duel. Might I ask where you learned to fight?" I replied, hoping the darkness would hide that I was not sweating or even out of breath.

"Oh, here and there. I spent some time in the Ferren military when I was younger, but my family comes first. After a few years, I moved back here to guard the caravan, but their training has a way of sticking with you. If you can fight half as well in a real battle as in a sparring match, I might need to convince my uncle to bring you on full time."

Laughing, I responded, "That would be great, sir. Thank you."

Holding out his hand, one of the guards tossed Darius a cloth he used to wipe his face. Turning to the group, he said, "Alright, you lot, finish up soon, and be sure to get sleep. We leave at first light. Lucas, as the newest recruit, you get the first shift for the night. Come find me in a half-hour, and I can give you the rundown.

The rest of the guards seemed to be regarding me with something that might be respect or possibly envy. As Darius walked away, I turned to them, glancing at the older men who had been fist-fighting when I approached.

"You fought well. Though I can handle a staff, I have little experience brawling without weapons. Would you be open to giving me some tips on how to improve my skills?" I asked, bowing my head to them.

The larger of the two men blinked at me several times before shrugging.

"Sure, why not? Long as you pull your weight around here, I don't see any problem helping you out."

Nodding, I bowed my head and thanked them before returning to Jacob's cart. Fortuna was still soundly asleep, but I roused him before placing several pieces of dried meat on top of the crate beside him. Most of his nutrition came from pure mana, but real food was always a pleasant supplement.

As I sat against the side of the cart, a borrowed spear in hand, I let my thoughts wander again to a problem that was on the back of my mind since I left Ferris. More imminent concerns had taken priority, but now that I had some measure of protection, it rose again to the forefront.

How was I going to convince someone from a nation that despised Ferris and mages to guide me to Cortos' sanctum. And would they be any friendlier to me than the country I was now fleeing?