The morning sun stretched over the horizon, casting golden light across the dirt path winding through the quiet hills.
The group had left early, moving in formation with disciplined steps. Dust kicked up from the hooves of dozens of horses as the sound of marching armor clanked with every steady movement.
Carriages rolled at the rear, pulled by well-kept horses, and handled by silent servants. Knights rode in rows, their polished armor gleaming, while banners fluttered slightly in the breeze. The atmosphere was quiet but alert, each man carrying a stern look and a hand close to their weapon.
Kael rode near the middle, his expression still thoughtful. During their stop, he had learned something shocking—many royal guards on a past mission to the West had been killed.
