Nickolas managed to finalise all decisions regarding the tournament by dusk, which meant the delegation would be departing the next day.
Fortunately no one had any objections to them tagging along, but then again why would they? The group wasn’t related to the Order in any way and was technically just travelling at the same time as the delegation, not as a part of it.
"How long are you going to be staying at Mountainfall?" Calen asked.
"For at least one night, but realistically probably two or three." Greg answered. "Lady Sylara always insist to throw a large banquet whenever a delegation from another settlement arrives on official businesses."
Thinking of Greg at a banquet and the fact that he used to be sealed in a magic armour around the clock made Calen think of something.
"How did you eat before?"
"When you were in the armour – you couldn’t take it off for even a little, so I was wondering how did you eat?"
"I didn’t." The devil shrugged. "Food was completely out of question, but thankfully that magic statue we have could create any food or drink you can imagine – so I asked for a liquid meal. With some creative use of straws I was able to consume them and that’s how I survived the last two hundred years."
"That doesn’t seem particularly pleasant..."
"Eh, the beverage created by the statue admittedly wasn’t particularly tasty but you’d get accustomed after a few decades of drinking only that. Considering I used to be a slave I couldn’t really complain about almost unlimited food that would adjust itself to my needs."
"That’s fair I suppose." Calen nodded. "How did you like solid food after getting out of the armour?"
"It was a strange experience, so much so that I opted to have my liquid meals after we came back. Now I eat normally but it did take some time to readjust myself."
"As fascinating as Greg’s diet is, I think we have to go now." Alfred interjected. "We were supposed to depart twenty minutes ago, and we haven’t even entered the tunnel."
"It’s not like anyone is waiting for us, calm down. Besides who’s fault is it that we didn’t meet the schedule?"
"I had... things to do."
"I think Morgan will survive three days without you."
Alfred’s ears reddened a little but he ignored the comment.
"Where’s the entrance to the tunnel located anyway?" Isara attempted to change the topic.
"In one of the old wine cellars, which are located on the opposite side of the keep to the dungeons."
"We had wine." Alfred snorted. "According to Nickolas the impressive stash they found lasted them for around a century of sporadic drinking. Nowadays we only get a barrel or two from Mountainfall every month."
"Not everything from the wine cellar is gone." Greg revealed. "Nickolas has a few bottles stashed away for special occasions, but I don’t think he’ll ever actually drink any more of them."
"Why do you think that?"
"Because they taste like shit – he popped open one when my armour was completed to celebrate, let’s just say I learned most of the human swearwords I know that night."
"That was quite an unforgettable evening... for many different reasons." Damien chuckled. "But we’re getting sidetracked again, we should really go."
The tunnel looked just like the last time except one small difference – the magic devices that were put in place by the installation crew were now glowing with a soft green light, spreading the same protection that enveloped the city all throughout the subterranean road.
"How long is the tunnel now? Before the teleportation it only took a few hours to move between Order and Mountainfall." Calen asked observing the tunnel from the entrance.
"If we were to go non-stop at full speed it would take us a week, more or less." Damien smiled.
"A week? We’d be running in a straight line without any interruptions and it would still take that long?"
"Well, they are in the eastern reaches of the kingdom after all while we’re not far from the western border – it’s only natural." The knight shrugged. "But don’t worry, it won’t take that long for us since we’re not going on foot."
"I thought you didn’t have mounts currently."
"We don’t – our method of transportation will be a bit more... novel."
He pointed to something which wasn’t initially visible to Calen because of where he was standing.
In the corner near the entrance stood a strange cross between a carriage and a wagon – it was sturdy and big enough to easily accommodate ten people, but there was just a tiny problem with it.
"What’s its method of propulsion? I don’t see any magic crystals or clockwork..."
"I am." Damien grinned.
"I’m going to be pulling the carriage, you know like a horse or a Strider. If I go all out with aura usage we’ll reach the destination before dusk today."
"...Will this thing survive speeds like that?"
"It should – at least it was designed to, you probably don’t know but Striders can be insanely fast themselves, making a weak form of transport just wouldn’t work."
"And what about us?" Isara questioned. "Alfred and Greg probably won’t have any issues while Cal and Cass might be able to hold on – but me and Ellie? We’ll fly away at those speeds."
"Worry not, I was told there are special roles in the carriage meant to secure the passengers during travel, besides there shouldn’t be issues like that if I accelerate slowly and keep a consistent speed."
"Sounds good enough for me."
The group started climbing into the carriage, one by one taking place inside and securing themselves to the vehicle.
"Have you ever done anything like that?"
"Transported humans."
"Sure, I used to run around with Alfred on my shoulders when he was small."
Isara turned to the younger knight.
"Would you care to share your experiences Alfred?"
"I was traumatised and threw up."
The question was cut off as the wagon suffenly zoomed into the darkness.