The night had deepened. On the dry dirt road near the forest's edge, a massive carrier woven from bone was moving slowly.
As the wheels turned, the ground cracked and crumbled, and the fine dust that rose with every turn turned into a hazy layer under the moonlight.
In front of the cart, a red-furred creature with nothing above its neck was walking. The body was solid, movements flawless. It seemed like it didn't care what it had become; it was simply carrying out the task it was given.
The large black horse walking beside it was breathing deeply, its muscles slightly tensing with each step.
Juuhra had taken off after clearing the path for them. With coiled wings, he glided in front of the bone carrier, cutting through the wind, flying toward the castle.
Ravien was standing on top of the cart. Without losing balance, he stared at the wolf, lost in thought.
"For the first time, I loaded capacity into a dead body," he thought. "Its form has completely changed.
