Ashur landed in the foreign countryside, panting and catching his breath. He didn’t have any clue where he had landed up.
All that he knew was that he could never return to Etheria.
He didn’t know where he would go, but anywhere was better than staying here.
At least, someplace else, he wouldn’t be known as a murderer.
Looking around, he found himself in a stark grassland, with sparse trees and dry, yellow grass. The landscape was a far cry compared to the lush greenery and tall, leafy trees in Etheria.
Suddenly, he felt a pang of homesickness. Although he hadn’t stayed in Lacotta for long, he already considered it home.
At least, it was more of a home than the Hon Clan had ever been to him.
Since young, he was always treated differently because he was the son of the Clan Leader. From the moment he was born, there was an unwritten agreement that he was destined to take over from his father one day. People regarded him and his family with much respect.