Four days later, a cool autumn breeze blew across the vast swamp, scattering the last traces of summer’s stifling humidity, leaving the air dry and slightly cool.
Along both sides of the road, the leaves of the Swamp Oak Trees were visibly turning from green to yellow. When a slightly stronger gust of autumn wind swept by, countless golden leaves drifted down like dancing butterflies. They covered the smooth, solid main road of the Kingdom, built by the Slimes, embellishing the grayish-brown surface with specks of gold.
On the road, several swamp beasts of burden, covered in thick autumn fur, were slowly pulling several widened and reinforced wooden flatbed carts toward the depths of the West Swamp. Their wheels rolled over fallen leaves and hard-packed earth, making a rhythmic creaking sound.
The beast-drawn carts were filled with Lizardmen from the East Fortress. Most of them wore thick, beast-hide coats, newly issued by the Kingdom, which protected them from the morning and evening chill.
The young Lizardman Warriors gazed excitedly at the unfamiliar and novel scenery along the way, while the older ones carefully watched over the baggage and belongings piled on the carts.
A few Slime Scholars, also headed to the Royal Capital for advanced studies, were squeezed in among the Lizardmen, their round bodies gently swaying with the jolting of the carts.
"Turk, I heard the Royal Capital deep in the swamp is much bigger than our East Fortress. Is it true that it has streets wider than the Reed River, and tall houses built with stone and glowing Gel that are brighter at night than a swarm of fireflies?"
At the very front of the cart, a young Lizardman whose scales shone with a healthy luster in the autumn sun nudged his companion’s shoulder with a thick arm and asked curiously.
His name was Salaman. With his exceptionally muscular build, he was clearly a Lizardman Warrior.
Sitting next to him was none other than Turk, the young man who had recently passed his trials and successfully become a Scale-Claw Shaman.
Compared to Salaman’s powerful build, Turk’s frame was slighter. Around his neck hung a necklace of various animal teeth strung together, symbolizing his status as a Shaman.
It was because of his courage and wisdom back then that the Rot Moss Tribe had managed to escape famine and the threat of powerful enemies, joining this fantastical Slime Kingdom.
Not only would they no longer have to worry about going hungry, but the great Slime King had even personally ordered that many promising young Lizardman Warriors like Salaman be selected from the tribe for systematic military training, hoping to help them become qualified Kingdom Knights.
From that point on, the Lizardmen’s future was no longer uncertain.
For this, all the Lizardmen of the Rot Moss Tribe were secretly and immensely grateful. They threw themselves into training with all their might every day. Combined with the good food provided by the Kingdom, they shed their previously scrawny appearance caused by long-term malnutrition, becoming visibly more robust and solid, their scales growing much brighter.
Before Turk could speak, a Slime Scholar who had been squeezed in the pile of luggage at the back struggled to push its way out of a gap. It hopped between the two of them, puffed out its round little belly, and huffed proudly, "Mudu, very big! Very big! A thousand... ten thousand Pu Mus couldn’t fill it."
"The new training grounds, very big. You can go there, train better, get stronger."
’Turk had actually heard from Princess Xiaohua a long time ago that a new city was being built deep in the West Swamp, destined to become the center of the Kingdom. At the time, Princess Xiaohua had said that only the framework of the city walls had been erected and that it was still quite desolate. But in the short month that had passed, when he asked a Slime Engineer who had participated in the Royal Capital’s construction, the engineer excitedly told him that comfortable habitats specially designed for Lizardmen had already been built there, along with a massive training camp for the Kingdom Knights. The training grounds there were said to be ridiculously large, as big as dozens of Rot Moss Tribe camps combined. They could accommodate training for Riding Skill, combat, archery, and formation drills all at the same time, and even had obstacle courses that simulated complex terrain.’
"Salaman, Mr. Pu Mu has been to the Royal Capital and seen Mudu with his own eyes. Of course it’s true," Turk replied to his companion’s question with a smile, his voice also filled with anticipation.
Salaman was about the same age as him and was already widely acknowledged as the most formidable Warrior in the Rot Moss Tribe. He was exceptionally brave, with sharp combat instincts.
Even the Elder Shaman, Shazak, privately believed that Salaman would very likely be the first to pass the strict Knight trials set by His Majesty and become the first-ever Lizardman Kingdom Knight.
At this moment, Salaman’s amber, vertical-pupiled eyes shone with excitement and longing. He gripped the War Axe resting on his lap—forged by a Kingdom blacksmith—as if he could already see himself drenched in sweat on the training grounds.
But in Pu Mu’s opinion, Salaman’s expression was just like that of a country bumpkin Slime, who had never seen the world, on its first trip to the big city.
Pu Mu puffed out its little belly and thought smugly, ’This guy... he’s definitely going to be blown away by the magnificent Mudu. I, after all, went to "inspect" it during the early stages of its construction and have seen the magnificent buildings rising from the ground and the bustling, orderly construction sites. Without a doubt, that place is a land of miracles.’
On the cart, the other Lizardmen were also whispering amongst themselves, discussing the Royal Capital they were about to reach, their voices filled with excitement and yearning for their new lives.
Autumn migrations were nothing new for the creatures of the swamp, but the destination and significance of this journey were completely different from any before.
But just then, the Elder Shaman, Shazak, who was sitting in the middle of the cart wrapped in a thick wool blanket and resting with his eyes closed, slowly opened his slightly clouded eyes.