Arthur watched as Talca and Littal combined their wagon-moving forces to maneuver around a section of road that had, based on what Arthur could see, simply fallen away to the side, paving material and all. The actual motion around the hazard wasn’t that impressive and even seemed like something Arthur could handle. What made it more of a feat was that Talca’s wagon was moving so fast. As it swerved around the newly generated ditch, it must have been going forty miles an hour.

“Geez.” Arthur looked over at Milo, who was pretending that the whole thing hadn’t stressed him out. “He’s really pushing.”

“He might as well.” Milo’s feathered hand thumped the empty sliver of seat between him and Lily. “With the improvements I made to the suspension before we left and the benefit of these roads, there’s not much risk.”

“Except when the road isn’t there at all.” Lily levered her little owl-legs and walked towards the front of the wagon. “Talca, what happened there? I thought the capital was supposed to be this whole thing. They can’t take care of their roads?”

“They do. Take care of them, I mean.” Talca set the reins down, letting his giant goat-monster-looking Hing friend take on the driving duties solo for a bit. “That big storm that came through last night did this. It found some crack in the road where the stampers hadn’t quite got everything perfect, widened it out, then fwooosh. No more road at that spot. It just flowed away.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” Arthur had barely noticed the storm, although the others had told him afterwards that it was a doozy. Most nights during their trip, he slept in a tent. Driving into the more civilized parts of the Demon world from the frontier meant there weren’t a lot of inns to choose from at first. Later on, they had found some, but the timing hadn’t worked out well enough to make use of them without losing the better part of a day of travel.

Arthur was no longer the mayor of Coldbrook, having passed that particular torch on to a much more intellectual, organized librarian who was much better positioned to handle the details of running a city. The settlement he helped found had moved past the dangerous, touch-and-go parts of its existence into a steadier, more certain existence, and that called for someone who could properly manipulate minutia to keep the town running smoothly.

Once he was freed up from the day-to-day grind of mayoral duties, Arthur had been almost immediately tapped on the shoulder to go to the capital as a representative of the town-at-large, giving speeches updating various who’s-who about the progress his town had made.

Now that they were closer to the capital, Arthur began to feel excited about the destination of this trip. The capital had always been something that Arthur’s friends mentioned, where the best of the Demon World could be found.

If nothing else, the population density was higher. It seemed like they were passing some small village or outpost every five minutes. They all had signs advertising their various specialties, all enabled by the talent and protection that radiated out of the city itself. In this part of the world, monster waves were so far from a serious threat that they almost didn’t exist at all. Where Coldbrook was just now reaching the critical mass of warriors, hunters, and support staff needed to fight off a dungeon-break wave before it breached their wall, the capital had so many warriors at every single level of class development that they competed for whatever experience points any given monster might provide. Waves, when they did occur, were ripped apart like a six-foot submarine sandwich at a sixteen-year-old boy’s birthday party, destroyed in service to the growth of the young and developing.

“So how much further?” Arthur asked. They had been on the road that morning for about a half hour, but they had been close to the capital when they stopped last night. Normally, Talca would have just pushed through, and had done so on several different trips that Arthur had taken with him.

This time, Talca pointed out that lodgings would be cheaper outside the city. Staying at them that night would allow them to arrive at the capital clean enough and fresh enough the next morning to make sure they gave the best impression possible. Since they weren’t expected for another day anyway, there was no reason to hurry.

“Are you impatient?” Mizu, by Arthur’s side, squeezed his hand. “You were nervous about arriving before.”

“Not impatient. And I still don’t feel great about having to give all those presentations.” Arthur had a pile of various documents, books, and notebooks by his side, all meant to prepare him for updating the Demon World on the progress that Coldbrook’s crafters, builders, and warriors had made. The town had innovated upon the general way things were done and added their own unique flavor to almost every process. “But I’m worried Karbo and the others might beat us after all.”

“Karbo’s group?” Talca laughed. “They left at the same time we did, Arthur. I know the transporter they’re with. He’s good, but he can’t keep up with me and Littal.” Talca reached down and patted the Hing on his side with a medium hard slap, the same affectionate way one might pat the side of a big dog or a horse. Littal grunted and shook his head, returning the sentiment as best he could. “We’ve been making pretty good time, even by my standards. That stop we made wouldn’t be nearly enough to let them catch up. I’m winning that bet. There’s no question about it.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Well, maybe.” Arthur didn’t have a good sense of how much Talca’s bet was worth since the stakes tended to be knowledge he had assembled as a constant traveler. Winning a bet against him often meant he’d give up the location of some secret restaurant or craftsman who otherwise didn’t care to be found. If not that, he tended to bet meals at the same restaurants, or drinks at his favorite bars. Arthur knew that nothing bad would come if they lost, but he still had enough team spirit to want Talca to win. “Their wagon really isn’t fast enough to beat you. Unless Karbo got bored, decided he wanted to arrive sooner, and picked up and carried the wagon himself.”

“Ha. That would be funny if it could happen,” Talca chuckled, then stopped as he saw the expressions of his passengers twist into various versions of wry, knowing, or wistful. “He couldn’t… No, he could. But nobody would… Nope, he would. Gods. We need to get a move on, Littal. We are going to lose.”

Littal lifted his head and gave a trumpeting sort of goat-roar as the Hing’s muscles tensed before the whole wagon accelerated forward with all the force of a battery of cannons.

“Just hold on tight,” Mizu said, grinning at Arthur, who was lurching around his seat wildly. He had a riding-in-wagons skill, courtesy of previous trips with Talca, that was supposed to steady him and make rides seem smoother than they really were. Riding with perhaps the best transporter in the world going all-out tended to negate that kind of thing though. “I’ll keep you safe.”

Arthur wasn’t the kind to be prideful in that situation. Not only would it be nice if his slightly-stronger-than-him water elemental girlfriend kept him from flying out of the wagon, she was also pretty nice to hold on to. This wasn’t the normal setting for that kind of thing, but he’d take it, especially when the wagon tipped up at an alarmingly steep angle as Talca gave up on any pretense of winding around hills in a safe-and-comfortable way.

“Yuck.” Lily screwed up her face. “Arthur and Mizu. We’re the cutest in the entire world and we don’t care who knows it.”

“We don’t,” Mizu said. “I don’t, anyway. And I like it when he gets embarrassed. Anyway, Talca, you didn’t ever answer Arthur when he asked. How long until we can see the capital?”

“Five seconds,” Talca said. “Maybe less. It’s coming over the hill just about… now.”

Arthur twisted around in his seat. The wagon was bouncing quite a bit, which would have normally made it hard to spot a distant settlement or town. That wasn’t an issue here. The capital was huge, well beyond anything he had ever seen. He had dim memories of seeing earth metropolises from the sky in a plane, but this was both closer and more substantial. The wall alone was so large and thick it looked almost eternal.

“Wow. Wow.” Arthur glanced around the wagon, looking for someone who shared the same deep feelings he was having when confronted with the biggest and busiest city he had ever seen. Milo looked impressed, but only so much as one could be when they had already seen a place several times. Mizu was even worse. She had visited the capital dozens of times with her mother over the years.

Arthur needed someone who could share the first-time-seeing-the-grand-canyon amazement he was feeling. And like usual, Lily came through for him in a clutch moment.

“It’s impossible,” Lily said. “It’s not possible for a city to be that big. It should collapse in on itself. Or knock itself down, or something.”

“It’s not a city.” Arthur continued gaping at the tableau. “It’s a territory, or something.”

“It’s actually three territories,” Talca shouted as he leaned forward and gave Littal what feedback he could through the reigns. “It used to be three cities with their own range of influence. They grew until the borders didn’t matter much, anymore.”

“So now it’s all the same?”

“Kinda! Ask Mizu!” Talca yelled. “I want to make sure we don’t die once we hit the downhill.”

Arthur voluntarily withdrew from that conversation. Mizu was listening and laughing to the whole thing, and was more than happy to fill in the gap.

“The three cities focused on separate things. Agriculture was one. I can’t remember the other two.” Mizu pointed down at the town. “See that big building? It’s a concert hall. That third of the city has tons of them.”

“Because of agriculture?”

“Kind of!” Milo yelled. “Spiky could explain it better. Starting with different focuses set each city on a different path. They ended up in different places, but how they got there is more complex than I can explain.”

“Industrial!” Talca yelled, with no context at all, his voice shaking as the wagon careened around various rocks, plants, and sheer drops that would have otherwise splintered the cart into pieces. “Entertainment! Academic!”

“What’s he yelling?”

“The general flavor of the districts. Of course, they all overlap these days. The academic district has entertainment. The industrial district has researchers.” Mizu was still the most knowledgeable person besides Talca in the wagon, and seemed pleased to be the one explaining the capital. “You’re going to be spending most of your time in the academic district. That’s where they have all the buildings and classrooms they use for this kind of thing.”

“And you?”

“I’ll follow you around, but mostly I’ll be at the center of the city, where the three come together. That’s where the biggest of the wells are.” Mizu hugged Arthur to her a bit tighter, suddenly excited about the prospect of seeing all the newest weller innovations. “I’m going to be able to tour all the important wells and distribution stations in the city. I’ll learn so much.”

“I’m glad for you. And don’t feel like you have to stick that close to me as a general thing. I’d almost rather you missed all the talks, so I don’t embarrass myself in front of you.”

“You’ll do fine, Arthur. I promise. I’ve seen one of these before. They don’t expect professional speaking abilities,” Milo said. “Just tell them what you know, explain that you don’t know any more than that, and they’ll get the rest out of the supplementary materials Spiky sent you with.”