The road to Brulin was calm but long, weaving through lush forests and hill paths that had yet to be swallowed by the Empire's roads.
Kyle rode in silence with Queen slithering beside his horse, ever alert, and the dragon egg carefully packed in his satchel, surrounded by layers of mana-insulated cloth.
He often reached back to check its temperature and pulse. It was stable—for now.
Brulin rose ahead of them by the third day, a gleaming silhouette wrapped in mana currents so dense that even Kyle had to adjust his senses.
This was the famed city of the Alliance Academy—where prodigies trained and mages were forged.
Tall towers touched the clouds, each etched with floating glyphs. Spell lights hovered around the clock towers and libraries like sentient fireflies.
It was a city made by magic, for magic.
Kyle entered without resistance, flashing a minor noble's crest and paying the toll.
Queen flew close in her smaller form, drawing curious glances, but no one dared speak.
