Riding on horseback, the Sheriff looked proudly at the nearly hundred-person convoy before him, their wagons drawn by horses, and their warhorses carrying them deeper into the wilderness.
"Hey, Sheriff."
Just as the man was about to turn his head to count the number of people, an old man on horseback came up beside him. Seeing the old man, the Sheriff couldn't help but smile.
"Old fellow, I really didn't expect you to come along?"
"Of course, the Lord had instructed me again and again—I couldn't possibly not come," the old man replied.
Hearing the Sheriff's words, the old man chuckled and patted the "Pioneer Emblem" on his chest.
"To be honest, when I heard that the toxic fog over the northern canyon had dissipated, I even thought I might be hallucinating due to old age... Hey, are we really going to open up a new territory?"
"Definitely, that's why we're here," the Sheriff said, nodding vigorously, then he reached out, took a pipe from his bosom, and put it to his mouth.
