Opened the curtain next to the dome, just in time for a cloud to drift across the sky, blocking the scorching sunlight.
A few breezes carrying moisture blew into the carriage, dispersing much of the previous fiery atmosphere.
Mormon poked his head out, only to see they were just passing over a wooden bridge.
At both ends of the wooden bridge were people selling things from stalls and travelers hurriedly heading north with backpacks.
"Why is everyone going north?"
"Because there's Jeanneburg to the north." The coachman, a genuine old Joan of Arc Castle local, lazily hummed, "Coming to beg at our Joan of Arc Castle."
"Begging, because the people of Joan of Arc Castle are kind-hearted and give generously?" Talolin curiously poked out his head.
The answer to Talolin's question came from the middle-aged stonemason, who was equally embarrassed about just having wrestled with his son, conveniently changing the subject.
