Pedarson had already become bleak in the final days of autumn dusk and the early days of winter. The trees were bare, but the forest still seemed like a monstrous beast lurking on both sides of the road.
The sound of hooves echoed from afar. Eleven knights broke through the white fog, charging into the silent morning.
To ensure speed, the riders had their steeds maintain a small, trotting pace, but did not gallop at full speed—they still had a journey of over a hundred miles to reach Luda and needed to conserve their horses' strength.
Except for the rider in the middle carrying a long black-wrapped package, the others were fully armed. Swords and glinting crossbows occasionally peeked out from their long cloaks. The knights remained highly vigilant, constantly scanning their surroundings. The early winter forest was cold and desolate, but wolves still roamed the woods.
