Towards An Unknown Town

The group of survivors stood together beneath the blood-red sky, exhaustion weighing on their expressions as they all watched Damien arrive.

Their clothes were torn and dirty, their eyes filled with uncertainty despite being free. They were awaiting a word. Any word.

They simply wanted Damien to speak.

Damien remained mounted on Fenrir, his silver-haired silhouette standing out against the darkened forest. His gaze swept across the crowd, his mind working through the next steps.

They had escaped.

They had survived.

But now—they needed a place to go.

He turned to Lizella, his voice calm but firm. "Where are you all from?"

There was a brief silence before the first person spoke. "Far towards the east of the continent."

Then another. "The southern kingdom of Edorg."

"Raegon, a town close to Edorg." A third person added.