The terrain beyond Valestorm was broken and fragmented.
Weeds sprouted from cracks and broken corners with dangerous things lurking in the shadows.
More than six months had gone by since the battle that had completely torn this place apart.
The wind was nice and cool, gently kissing Cain across the cheek.
He was seated on the back of a {Longhorn Mare} alongside a few others— Lukas, Gilead, Beorstone, and Alvis.
Cain glanced at the older man with a strange look.
Despite not being a combatant, he had insisted on coming along with them. Since he could be considered a major benefactor, Cain saw no reason to refuse him and had agreed.
The bulk of this small army consisted of the most powerful fighters of the Golden Asura with the Lightslayers and the Pilgrims making up the rest.
