All was quiet in the rural Engsted Mountain range.

Too quiet.

But then a subtle rumble, like that of muffled distant thunder, broke the silence, crackling from beyond the snow-packed mountaintops.

The encroaching noise bounced off the towering ancient trees, blending into the stifled echoes from the expansive sea of emerald pine fir that rustled like soothing bells in the cool breeze.

But the growing rumble of the earth, like that of hurried stomping hooves on dirt, ripped off the cloak masquerading the temporary tranquility of the Engsted Mountains.

The rough dirt road - manually constructed by human hands along the cliff edges of the towering Engsted Mountain range - rattled violently as a high-speeding carriage raced down the curving path that spiraled and meandered down the mountains, leaving a dense trail of dust in the carriage’s wake.

Donned in sun-faded, saddle-brown leather armor, the carriage driver turned his head to the side and shouted back at the passengers, “Alright, y’all! The Express Guaranteed gonna be’s right on time! We’s abouts nearly t’town! And so I’ma finish this trip strong! Hold all d‘em thangs of yours tight, y’all! I ain’t reimbursing nobody for lost items or weapons! This crappy road to Engsted Fortress boust to be makin’ the last stretch of our journey a lil’ bit bumpy!”

Turning back, the carriage driver refocused on the road ahead.

But the man’s eyes abruptly widened.

Instead of reins, the driver - whose bun-tied, crispy black hair bounced in the racing wind - suddenly squeezed his hands together around a translucent blue orb of mana in front of his lap. The orb of mana pulsed, sending rippling waves to the carriage and triggering the mechanisms that began to click about underneath the speeding conveyance.

Screeches of clashing metal on metal shrieked out from the breaking wheels and into the surroundings, as the driver attempted to forcibly slow the carriage that barreled down towards the vanishing dirt road.

But it was no use.

The cart moved too fast to suddenly stop. The locked wheels only forced the carriage to skid uncontrollably on the dirt road while wobbling side to side as it plowed ahead. At times, nearly swerving off the edge of the vertical cliffside.

The sharp-nosed driver swore as the winding dirt road before him abruptly disappeared in the near distance ahead.

“Oh, shit! Ya gots to be kiddin’ me! We at that turn already?! Damn, Count Engsted! ‘Em nobles never listen to us po’r folks! I told ‘em we be needin’ signs on these dangerous roads! Well, I ain’t gonna be another victim! Hell nah!”

With reflexive and experienced hands, the driver yanked the orb of mana sharply to the left side of his body. And his two steeds - two massive, hairless cheetah-like creatures, covered in gray scales with tails as snakes - abruptly jerked their heads and turned sharply to their right.

The cheetah-like creatures did not stop but quickly powered ahead with large, springing strides from their densely muscled hind legs. However, their front limbs subtly tensed with a snapping twist, claws digging into the road, and forcing their body to quickly turn and adjust to the ninety-degree bend in the road.

The steeds nimbly made the sharp turn, but the carriage was not so lithe.

But at least the carriage was sturdy.

The front right corner of the conveyance smashed into the corner of the turn with a jarring thunk. It continued, scraping the hardy wood of its side frame on the jagged rocks with a carving sound. Yet, the impact did not deter the trajectory of the carriage that still headed toward the cliff as its left wheels skidded across the dirt and slipped off the ledge, dangling half of the now lopsided carriage in the air.

Screams and shouts from the panicked passengers, who tumbled to the tipped side, cried out as the bottom of the carriage crashed and scraped along the vertical ledge.

However, the driver worried little about the passengers.

“Ah, craps! My poor baby carriage! Dang rock cliff! My gal be all bruised and bangled up! Damn! How much is it gonna be costin’ me this time?! ‘Em dwarves gonna be rippin’ me off again for ‘em repairs! Bastards. Raisin’ prices just ‘cause I be human!?”

The driver groaned at the thought of glaring dwarves, who wanted to outright refuse service to humans but could not due to the needed and lucrative business dealings. Instead, he lifted the orb in his hand, injecting more mana inside that relayed and transferred to the carriage. Four hatches along the bottom right side plopped open, and square bars of metal protracted out at an angle - punching into the dirt road, retracting before repeating, and slowly lifting and pushing the carriage fully back onto the path with all four wheels.

The cheetah-like creatures growled, straining as their dagger-like claws dug and gripped the road with each stomp. They leaned away from the cliff, assisting and pulling the carriage as best they could back onto the road. Else, they would have also been dragged down the steep drop.

With all their combined efforts, finally, all four wheels the conveyance rolled back onto solid ground. And the middle-aged driver commended his steeds’ efforts.

“Alright, good a going Ect, Ert! We’s almost there, boys! Ya! We’s might even be makin’ our arrival ahead of time! Ya! Ya! Giddy up, you two!”

The two cheetah-like creatures turned their heads and gave their owner the side eye before huffing and dashing off again at full speed. The carriage was sturdy indeed, bumping and ricketing over the uneven terrain, but it still chugged along undamaged.

Soon, the carriage descended down the last mountain, and the mountainous terrain folded into hundreds of hills that eventually flattened in the distance into an endless sea of verdant trees.

“Alright, y’all! If y’all looks to your left, y’all can see Engsted Fortress at the highest hill over yonder!”

Not many were conscious to look where the driver was pointing at. If conscious, then the passengers were too queasy to take a glance.

However, past the foot of the mountain, the winding dirt road changed. Paved roads, inlaid with rectangular cut stone, meandered through the hills that were cleanly plowed, revealing rich black soil that was densely seeded with sprouting crops.

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The roads continued, spreading out and interlocking into one another. But all roads connected and led back up to the largest hill and to massive, towering walls. The dark stone walls stood five stories high and were technically a building of its own. Wide enough for fifteen men to stand arm's length apart, some interior portions of the walls were hollowed out as garrisons to house troops or for other miscellaneous bureaucratic needs.

Deep, panting breaths from the two massive cheetahs shot bursts of sparks and fire as they slowed down to a crawl after racing through the paved roads and to the giant walls of Engsted Fortress.

The middle-aged man chuckled and proudly proclaimed, “Alright, ya ambitious and daring young chaps and gals! We, the Express Guaranteed, arrived safely at Engsted Fortress as guaranteed and right on schedule. As advertised, no man or monster delayed our path. We stopped at nothing and even arrived earlier than expected! It be only three days since we departed from Engsted Capital, which be on the other side of the mountain range. And before evenin’ to boot too! My job now be done. So get off my carriage! And be sure to use our business next time for the quickest trip or delivery! Now, shoo! I need to be making additional drop-offs, repairs, and sleep after bein’ up for three damn days!”

Most of the passengers were too nauseous to argue back. One by one, the passengers exited the carriage with wobbling legs, as if drunk on liquor, down the three steps and onto the paved waiting area to enter Engsted Fortress. Even the more experienced veteran travelers were not spared from the rough ride.

“Damn, Ruast! You nearly flipped the carriage off the cliff! Again!” Snapped a returning customer of Express Guaranteed at the carriage driver, Raust.

The young complaining man, with frazzled dirty blonde hair and multiple healed cuts across his sky blue eyes, stepped off the carriage with one calloused hand holding his still spinning head while the other clenched around the ropes to his bag. The battle scars, in addition to the massive broadsword that hung down the length of his thick, muscled backside, which could not be hidden by the black leather armor that covered his lean physique, gave the man an intimidating aura.

But the slim and meatless Ruast was not frightened by the muscular adventurer. The fearless carriage driver quipped back, “Bah! This time be not even that bad, Longst. Not even close to ‘em times when the carriage completely ran off ‘em cliffs. Remember?”

Longst - the rugged, muscular blonde adventurer with a stout nose, who drew the sly gazes of the once dizzy lady passengers who were now dizzy from stealing glances at his good looks and chiseled form - shuddered while recalling the sinking and tickling sensation of vertigo in his stomach from his last ride with Express Guaranteed. Quickly, he firmly planted both feet on the ground, only relaxing after completely getting off the crazy carriage and away from its lunatic driver, Raust.

“Gosh, I hate being broke!” Longst suddenly shouted at the sky, shocking the other passengers waiting to disembark. “I want more money so I don’t have to use this psycho carriage anymore!”

The other passengers nodded in agreement.

“Why do all the routes here to Engsted Fortress have to be riddled with possible chances of death?! I’m not even in a Dungeon yet!” Taking a sigh, Longst grumbled with displeasure at his finances, “With gold, I can use the city teleport array! I can simply buy monster cores to level up! Damn it! Why can’t I level up faster and become an A-ranked adventurer already!?”

Raust picked at his nose, unperturbed by Longst’s complaints. Flicking a booger with a small bug that got stuck inside at the blonde adventurer, Raust smirked and replied, “Ya be a real dumb dumb, Longst. Absorbing cores only be getting ya so far. Ya ain’t ever gonna break ya limits and ranks that way. Shouldn’t ya already know dat by now?”

Longst quickly turned and dodged the flying booger, responding by staring daggers at Raust. “What? Don’t you know why already!? It’s because of this damn class of mine!”

Raust shrugged. “Yea, yea. But nobody to blame it on but ya self. Ya chose ya class. Ain’t nobody forcing ya.”

“Shut up, I know. Just saying,” Longst replied with a defeated grunt, tossing his bag over his shoulder, and clunking the items inside against his large broadsword.

With a pouting face, he stomped off towards the long line waiting for inspection with his hands in his pockets while kicking the rocks and pebbles in his way.

“See ya next time, Longst. Three weeks, yea?” Raust called out.

Longst simply raised his right arm in the air and waved while never looking back.

Raust snorted, “Che, show off. Tryin’ to play cool when he been acting like a fool.” With a sigh, Raust added, “But guess that be two of us, Longst. I ain’t exactly right of mind either, driving this banged up thing through ‘em damn dangerous mountains. More and more Dungeons be showin’ up lately. Monsters be running a loose. Da hell be wrong with this place? Place be infested with ‘em. But good money be flowing in for ‘em noble ass-folk.” With a whispered hiss, Raust restated, “Damn, cheap-ass ass-folk. Rich, but can’t even put up a gosh darn warning sign. Damn ass-folk.”

The last passenger exited the carriage, and Raust decided to be dramatic. “Finally! The gods be damned, should I be delayed from the Red District any longer! Bout time, boy! Now get! I got places to go, packages to drop off, and women to see!”

Hurriedly clunking down the wooden three steps in polished, chestnut-colored leather shoes - untypical of adventurers - Mathaius descended to solid ground. Quickly bowing his head of finely combed-over, matching brown hair multiple times, Mathaius apologized.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry, sir! I delayed you to the R-“

The young pale man’s face turned bright pink as he recalled where Raust was truly headed.

Raust carefully eyed Mathias.

“Clearly, a virgin. What he tryin’ to be? A unique monk class? Weirdo. Missin’ out on da best things in life, I’ll say. But da kid be a real weirdo in more ways than one,” Raust remarked internally.

Given Ruast’s line of work, the carriage driver/delivery man/middle-aged playboy had seen/worked with/been with a fair variety of people. But Mathias appeared to be an anomaly.

“Brat’s clothes and armor be expensive. Light and breathable undergarments? Scorpio Spider silk, right? And that lightweight but durable leather armor? Wyvern skin? Ain’t just some nobody be able to be wearing something like that. Maybe an A-Rank or newly S-Rank?”

Eyeing Mathias up and down with a gauging look, Ruast concluded, “An A-Rank with that build? Hell nah. Bet even I could take him on personally with my Tamer class.”

Staring silently too long at Mathias made the young browned-haired man too self-conscious and uncomfortable. “Um, I’m sorry, Sir. I won’t bother you anymore. Can I go now?”

Coming out of his thoughts, Raust’s curiosity was piqued, and he said, “Huh? Oh. Yeah. So you a noble?”

Mathias immediately extended his hands in front of him and waved them in refusal while shaking his head - fervently shaking it side to side in rejection.

“No, Sir! I would never dare lay claim to such an impossibility! Desecrating or impersonating the nobility leads to severe punishment! I dare not… Never. But even so, I guess it doesn’t matter. I am but just a discardable, useless thing in the end. At the whims of those more powerful.”

“So kid ain’t some noble. Makes sense, them ass-folk and their spawn would just teleport to town. But what the kid be tryin’ to say then? Sounds like it’s complicated and deals with ‘em ass-folk. But dang kid be a walking contradiction. New armor that ain’t never seen dirt or grime? Only the ass-folk, right? But ass-folk don’t work. Brat’s hands be looking worse than Longst. Hell’s going on with ya, kid?”

Mathias hid his hands well through the trip to the fortress, clenching them and keeping his palms tucked to his side. But when he frantically waved his hands at Ruast, denying being a noble, all the callouses, bruises, and chemically-induced discoloration were present for Ruast to see.

“What the frail-looking kid be doing to put his hands in such bad shape?”

”What be ya name kid?” Raust asked, wanting to keep tabs on interesting people. Good information could be worth some coin.

“Huh? Me?”

“Yeah, ain’t nobody else around, yeah?”

Giving the driver a suspicious look, Mathias contemplated but replied, “Mathias-” whispering the last part that Ruast could not hear, “-of Elmswood.”