Black Mountain Castle, outside the barracks.
Five carriages were parked outside the camp, with rows of black muzzles protruding from the walls, pointing in Domenico's direction.
Domenico and a few nobles and servants stood there, the sunlight glistening on their clothes trimmed with golden threads, slowly flowing like a river of gold.
The sun above radiated the fervor of summer, making their heads spin, their vision blur, as sweat ran down their backs like streams.
Yet they dared not relax, fearing any misunderstanding from the Holy Gunners on the walls.
Yesterday, having arranged the carriages and everything, Domenico personally led the delegation and gifts, heading towards Black Mountain.
They first arrived at the checkpoint in front of Black Mountain Castle, where they were inspected three times and had all their weapons confiscated before reaching here.
But after waiting for almost an hour, they were beginning to peel under the scorching sun, and still Horn did not appear.