Meanwhile, deep in the wilds of Alta-Sierra, the group led by Alaric, General Odin, and the surviving escapees pressed onward along a hidden trail known only to a few old warriors and even fewer maps. The forest swallowed them, its ancient canopy casting flickering shadows across the narrow path. They moved cautiously, a caravan of forty horses—some their own, others captured during the pursuit of Luki—treading quietly beneath towering trees and whispering winds.
The terrain grew more unforgiving as they climbed. Roots coiled like serpents across the trail, and the earth turned slick with moss and fallen leaves. Eventually, Lara made a difficult choice—abandoning the sidecar she had once relied on. With a silent farewell, she detached it and continued, pushing her bicycle by hand, determined to keep pace despite the growing strain.
