Running Through the Void

The road beyond Volcrest was not kind.

Gone were the structured paths of the city, the dark-stone walls, and the cold glow of runic lanterns.

Here, the land stretched wide and untamed—a mixture of rolling plains, jagged ridges, and distant mountain peaks that cut into the horizon like shattered blades.

The second tree's call was still distant, but it was clearer now.

It wasn't just a presence.

It was a direction.

And it was pulling him far beyond anything he had known.

Argolaith led the way, moving with purpose, the weight of the sword at his side a constant reminder of what had changed.

Malakar followed silently, his violet eyes flickering beneath the shadow of his hood. He was watching, calculating, waiting.

Kaelred, already tired of endless walking, sighed loudly. "So how far are we talking? Days? Weeks? Months?"

Argolaith exhaled. "Far."

Kaelred groaned. "Great. That really narrows it down."