A procession was advancing on the new road built by the Moscow Prince.
Cavalry clad in opulent robes rode at the head of everyone, with banners bearing the Rurik Trident and saint george slaying the dragon fluttering above their heads.
Their incredibly ostentatious attire and armor announced the arrival of an immensely powerful Prince, the arrival of the master of Northeast Rus', Rostislav Vladimirovich Rurik.
Behind those cavalrymen were densely packed armored warriors, riding fully armored warhorses, raising their lances with pennants attached to their tips, appearing incredibly majestic.
The substantial gains from the Bulgar campaign allowed Rostislav to acquire more equipment for his retainers, enabling the Prince to assemble a contingent of fully armored cavalry.
And behind the warriors were the accompanying Rus' Nobles and various chieftains; how could they not obediently follow when the Moscow Prince passed by?
Yan Vishatich, Poleye, Edward Wessex… all the powerful figures of Northeast Rus' were here, their influence seemingly reaching the heavens, but everyone understood that they were merely a backdrop for that Moscow Prince.
Due to the joining of a large number of nobles, the entire procession suddenly swelled to nearly three hundred people, and from a distance, one could see the dust raised by the horses of countless armored warriors.
However, compared to the knights encased in iron armor, these people looked like a group of farmers, as many of them were still wearing padded armor and fur cloaks.
Pedestrians by the roadside all made way for the procession, respectfully saluting it.
Locals further away watched the procession with curiosity; to them, this procession was no different from those of performing artists, as no one here believed they would ever be involved with such grand power in the future.
Such a grand display served both to protect the Prince and to convey the Prince's authority to the villages along the way and to the people who witnessed it.
After all, in the villagers' eyes, only a grand and ostentatious procession could embody the Prince's majesty, and this was the sight they could most easily comprehend.
If Rostislav had traveled discreetly with only a few dozen retainers, the farmers might have suspected that the Prince had been sidelined.
Rostislav himself sat in a camel palanquin on a large camel; the palanquin was adorned with many splendid decorations, Persian in style, but with the symbol of Allah replaced by the symbol of Christian.
A fully armed personal guard led the camel, which was surrounded by fully armored cavalry guards; these retainers vigilantly scanned their surroundings, being the elite of the elite among the Rus' Princes' subordinates.
This camel and palanquin once belonged to Akad Moska Duluk; this current Khan had left this large camel and palanquin as spoils of war in Northeast Rus' when he failed in his campaign against Northeast Rus', turning them into Rostislav's private property.
Rostislav greatly favored this palanquin, primarily because adding a small table allowed the Prince to write while on the move.
Moreover, this palanquin was very luxurious, fitting the Prince's style, and its exotic flair could further enhance the Prince's majesty.
Currently, Rostislav was writing on the small table in the palanquin, and what he was writing was a record of the development of Northeast Rus'; the Prince had already named this book, "the chronicle of forest reclamation."
"In September of the year 1055, the Behind-the-Forest Land experienced a grand jousting tournament this year, also the first All Rus' jousting tournament. The Christian Anwar Faris Nur from Persia won first place, earning immense honor and glory. Also in this month, Rostislav Vladimirovich Rurik began extensive construction in Northeast Rus' to consolidate control over various parts of Northeast Rus' and to prepare for the expedition against the Bulgar people."
After writing these, Rostislav rubbed his eyes, feeling a bit tired; he had been very fatigued lately, busy inspecting various places, and still having to make time to write articles.
The Prince looked at the surrounding scenery, seeing only forests and wilderness. The vastness made him feel somewhat lost; although he had achieved many construction accomplishments, every time he saw all this, he still felt bewildered and overwhelmed by the pressure.
The only sign of civilization before him was the dirt road beneath his feet, but it was still so insignificant compared to everything else.
But then he felt a little ridiculous; what was he thinking? Even if he built his entire life, he would never see the prosperity of his previous life, so why was he thinking about transforming nature?
Then the Prince's emotions surged again; although his construction could not compare to the later era, it was already a tremendous achievement compared to this era.
The Moscow Prince's thoughts did not dwell on such things and had already returned to the present. The Prince felt that his future was very bright; as long as he proceeded according to his plan, Moscow would inevitably grow stronger and stronger, and he would get closer and closer to Kiev.
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After the Prince's procession passed, the people who had been saluting on both sides of the road raised their heads and gathered to discuss what they had just witnessed, talking about the Prince's power, his great achievements, and the magnificent procession.
It seemed many people would return to their villages with something to boast about to their fellow villagers, as Rostislav's reputation had already spread throughout the countryside with the songs of the performers.
And among the crowd, an old man wearing a cloak looked at the grand departing Prince's procession, sighing. Rostislav's power was much greater than he had initially imagined.
"Master, do we still need to?"
A man with a short axe at his waist next to him asked. People dressed like this were everywhere, as the wilderness of Northeast Rus' was never safe.
But if one looked closely, they would find that there were quite a few such people here, and they were distributed on both sides of the road, as if preparing for something.
"No, now is not the time. That would only send you to your deaths, and you wouldn't even be able to kill that Rostislav."
Lev sighed, his inner desire to quickly end all of this had dissipated; the moment he saw the Moscow Prince's procession, he knew it was impossible.
And at that moment, he also thought that even if Rostislav were killed, a new Rostislav would soon emerge; it was utterly useless.
"Let's go. The future is still very distant. We must take other paths and find other ways."
The disheartened Lev said, and he also had a bad feeling, especially when he saw the young Prince writing; that feeling was very unsettling.
But he would not give up because of this. Lev's will had always been firm, and he was not without ideas, he just didn't want to face them directly, but now he had to, because it was the only choice…