The journey to Amande, nestled deep in the mountainous edge of the Strahl Region, was long and riddled with peril. Jon and Sam traveled on foot for the most part, occasionally hiring wagons or riding spirit-touched stags given to them by the village rangers.
The forests faded into craggy cliffs and misty highlands as they neared Galarc's borders. Despite the harsh terrain, Jon trained Sam daily in swordplay, strategy, and situational magic. Sam, bolstered by his spirit arts training and inner discipline, took to it eagerly.
On the fourth night, while camping in a rocky outcrop, Jon turned to Sam as they sharpened their weapons.
Jon:
"You're growing stronger, Sam. I can see it."
Sam (smiling sheepishly):
"Ren would kill me if I came back weaker."
Both men chuckled, but it quickly faded when they saw smoke rising faintly from the distance—dark and spiraling, like the breath of some buried beast.
Sam (serious):
"That's coming from Amande, isn't it?"
Jon (nodding):
"Yes. We're close now."
The following day, they crossed the final ridge and beheld Amande, a fortified noble city surrounded by layered stone walls and enchanted runes. But what caught their attention wasn't the architecture.
It was the pall of corrupted spirit energy they could both feel in the air—sickly, twisted, and unnatural.
Jon's eyes narrowed.
Jon:
"They've already begun."