"In the two hundred and forty-seventh year of the Holy Leon calendar, the month of autumn, the twenty-eighth day. Light rain, the temperature is quite moderate.

It had been five weeks since the Empire launched an invasion of the Fowl Federation and suffered a crushing defeat.

That was the beginning of the "Grey War". For no clear reason, the war burned across the continent in one year. Until the end, the entire war was filled with conflicting accounts and specious motives. Some historians believe that Huruman Stark was the mastermind of everything, while others are unable to conclude and can only name him "gray".

In the history books I read from my grandfather, the details of the war were more or less recorded. After the defeat of the Empire's vanguard, the Philese Federation launched a counterattack with the help of the dragons, and the surrounding countries joined in the division of the Empire. However, the moment described in the book has long since passed, and there is still no sign of action on the part of the Federation.

Perhaps because of this, I have seen more than half of the refugees from the Empire than rumored to be. I don't know where the imperial general who led them through the Forest of Parting and settled in the southern part of the continent in the record is at this time?

History is already different. Maybe it's the change we've brought about, or maybe it's inherently uncertain.

I can't predict where it's going, only that it won't be worse than it was."

Ann wrote the last punctuation point, put the quill aside, and waited quietly for the ink to dry. Elio had just finished feeding the horses and was walking up to her from the doorway, hanging his wet cloak aside, and sticking his tongue out at her—a boy's way of greeting.

They sat in a dimly lit, single-story wooden house. Tables and chairs were scattered all over the room, giving off a slightly damp musty smell. One window could only be half-closed, and the other could never be opened. The owner of the cabin cowered behind the dilapidated bar, taking a sip of the water mixed with the liquor. Outside, it was pouring rain, and occasionally a few crows came to feed, and the hoarse cry made the girl frown.

Ann shifted her gaze to the table. A pot of oily stew was placed in the center, and the cutlery used to hold it had not been properly washed for an unknown amount of time, and the edges were covered with gray-black stains. She sighed inwardly and decided not to think about what the dirt was.

The war between the Oren Empire and the Fleld of Phil still affects the inhabitants of the border. As a thoroughfare connecting the two countries and the Roland Confederation, it was originally full of caravans and travelers, and inns and taverns for resting were also everywhere. Nowadays, however, there are few pedestrians on the road, and the inns that are still open are either extremely expensive or as dilapidated as the one in front of her.

After all, one of the warring parties is a haughty – or irascible dragon. No one knows how to deal with them so that they don't suddenly become a corpse. Those who have a little savings, and are not so 'brave', have already packed their bags and gone to a safer place.

Obviously, Ann and Elio are not among them.

Two weeks ago, Ann, who sensed that history had taken a different path, no longer wanted to simply bury herself in historical materials and classics, or obtain rumors from travelers. After thinking about it, she decided to go to the Federation of Philes in person to investigate the origin of the "change". Elio agrees with her as usual, and takes a solemn vow.

"I, Elio Lorante, swear by the glory of a knight that I will protect Miss Ann with this sword until the last moment of my life!"

Thinking of the young man's expression at that time, An couldn't help but feel a little warm in his heart. Although it didn't take long for Elio to return to his original form, the maiden was confident that the young knight would keep his promise if he was in danger.

They say goodbye to Uncle Dougan, the innkeeper who has taken in the two for nearly a month in exchange for helping with chores. The young knight selected two horses from the inn, which were not sturdy, but docile enough, and bought them for fifty silver coins.

Ann did not choose to travel in a horse-drawn carriage. On the one hand, when encountering danger, the carriage is not as flexible as the horse itself; On the other hand...... They don't have much possessions on them.

Two hundred years later, the Imperial silver coins obviously did not have the value they deserved, and if they were not corrected, they would cause trouble. Gems from the Northland were popular with nobles and wizards, but were of little use to the fishermen of this town. Elio's sword is pretty good, but unfortunately it can't be exchanged for money. In the end, she sold a few delicate gold and silver ornaments to a merchant ship anchored here, and barely managed to scrape together the cost of the journey.

Due to her weak health, when she was still in the Violet Empire, Ann never traveled on horseback. But under the guidance of the young knight, she quickly mastered the knack of controlling her horses, and could even let go of the reins and record the scenery as she went—much to the boy's fear. Of course, if you gallop on horseback, or fight on horseback, that's another matter.

The two walked along the avenue during the day, and at night either pitched their tents in the wilderness or looked for the cheapest hotel to spend the night. As an imperial princess, such a journey may seem hard, but it is interesting and fulfilling enough.

Whether it is the natural environment or the customs, everything Ann experiences every day, including her thoughts about the current situation, is written down with pen and paper. Elio took on the task of taking care of the horses and the food for the two, and in the past month, perhaps because of helping out at the inn, the boy's skills have improved significantly.

She was sure that if Elio was to borrow the kitchen, what was in front of her would be better than this pot of 'things'.

Now is not the time to pick and choose, the girl said to herself. She scooped about half a bowl of stew, took the dried fish fillets and dough from her arms, broke them into small pieces and threw them into the bowl, stirred them a few times, and scooped up a spoonful and put it in her mouth.

The dish is a little too salty, perhaps to cover up the stale meat. She glanced at the teenager opposite. The young knight was gobbling it up, and from time to time he grabbed a cup from the side and poured a large gulp of inferior ale, which was probably also mixed with water.

Ann swallowed the bowl hard, feeling her body warm up a bit, and rinsed her mouth with ale.

She turned her head to look at the bar, where there was only half a bald head, and got up and walked over, "Have any other travelers been here lately besides us?"

The owner of the wooden house glanced at his notebook, coughed twice, and slammed the cup in his hand on the table.

"It's weird, those damn dragons messed everything up." "My cook and maid have run home," he said, "leaving me, a man with nowhere to go. There are only outlaws who dare to take this path, and only weirdos like you are left. ”

The man sighed heavily and picked up the cup again. But almost at the same time, as if to verify what he had just said, the broken wooden door slammed open with a loud bang.

"Robbery!"