"Erik… Erik, wake up."
A familiar voice stirred him from sleep. As Erik opened his eyes, he was greeted by Yosul's warm smile, made Erik's heart skip a beat first thing in the morning.
He sat up, realizing the camp was already coming alive. Most of the others were already up, stretching, eating, preparing their gear. As Erik readied himself, the old man with the axe silently handed him a folded black cloak.
"Here," the old man muttered.
"Thanks," Erik said, taking it. The cloak was heavy but comfortable—perfect for travel.
Soon, the entire group gathered behind the Kali Temple, where a line of horses stood waiting. The sky was still dim with the last traces of night, and the cold morning air clung to their breaths.
Evalyn stood near the horses, arms folded, waiting.
"So, you're leaving too, huh?" she said as Erik approached.
"Yup," he replied.
She handed a rolled-up map to Yosul.
"This is everything we got from the Walkers," she said. "Not much detail, but their descriptions are solid. Yosul—getting the relic comes first, alright?"
Yosul nodded seriously.
"But more importantly," Evalyn continued, her voice firm, "make sure everyone comes back alive."
The group collectively nodded, as the weight of her words settling over them.
Erik mounted his horse, gripping the reins. One by one, the others followed suit, adjusting saddlebags and checking their gear.
"Does she have a name?" Erik asked, patting his horse's neck.
"Nope," Yosul replied from beside him.
"…Alright then."
With everyone mounted and ready, the squad formed a line. Evalyn stood at the front, raising a hand in farewell.
"Good luck!" she called, her voice sharp and clear.
Erik looked back once as the sun began to rise, casting a golden hue across the stone temple. Evalyn's figure stood framed against the light, hand still raised.
Then he turned back.
With the wind at their backs and the dawn on the horizon, the relic extraction squad galloped forward—toward the uncharted path, toward the shadowed expanse known only as the Valley of Death.
The journey continued at a steady pace, the morning sun filtering through a dense canopy of green. As the squad rode deeper into the forest, the trees grew thicker, their trunks twisting like ancient sentinels. The road narrowed until it was barely wide enough for a single horse.
One after another, they rode in silence—careful, deliberate, moving toward the Valley of Death.
"I didn't know there were even roads here," Erik said, guiding his horse alongside Yosul's.
"There weren't," Yosul replied casually. "Not until we contacted the Walkers."
"The Walkers?" Erik echoed.
"Yeah. They're the ones who scout uncharted territory—find paths, map out hidden places. They're the reason we even know where we're going."
"So… they explore wild lands before anyone else does?"
"Exactly," Yosul said. "They specialize in stealth, so slipping through dense forests like this is second nature to them."
Erik let his gaze wander around—the towering trees, the winding trail, the near-silent sounds of hooves on soft earth.
"…How far are we from the temple?"
"Two days, give or take," Yosul said. "If we don't hit anything unexpected."
"Hmm… not as far as I thought it'd be."
"Disappointed?" Yosul teased.
"Not really."
A moment of silence passed, broken only by the rustling of leaves and the occasional snap of a branch beneath a hoof.
"Hey, Erik," Yosul said, glancing over. "Have you ever been to a beach?"
"A beach?" Erik blinked. "No, I haven't."
"Got it."
"…Are we going to one?"
Yosul smirked. "Be patient, Erik."
"How am I supposed to be patient after you say something like that?"
Yosul just chuckled, and the forest closed in around them once more.
The team slowly progressed through the forest. After a while the leading horse that Leena Road stopped. Yosul passed through everyone and went to the front.
"So, this is it"
As him and the team stood in the entry to the Valley of death.
"Here on out we won't be galloping, not until we cross the forest at least." Yosul said.
Everyone got off their horses and started walking beside the horses. It didn't take long before the first hurdle came up.
Yosul suddenly stopped.
"Everyone, down"
Everyone got down, horses as well.
The sound of heavy footsteps started getting louder and louder.
Erik slowly peeked through the bushes.
"What the hell?" Erik muttered in shock.
"Orks!" said the Oldman beside him.
It was a group of twenty of them. Erik has heard of them before, but this is the first time seeing them with his eyes. Tall, about ten to twelve feet. Green or grey color, not quite visible. More importantly they carry weapons and have dresses.
Everyone waited without a sound as they walked past them.
Everyone got up as the orks disappeared from sight. So did the horses.
"I didn't know horses could do that" Erik muttered.
"We have trained them" Leena said as she was standing beside Erik.
"Huh, that's interesting"
They resumed their slow advance, weaving through the trees as the forest began to thin.
Then Erik heard it—a sound he couldn't place. Not a rustle of leaves, not the cry of a beast, but something entirely unfamiliar. A deep, rhythmic whisper, like the breath of something massive in the distance. As they emerged from the trees, the ground turned to fine, pale sand beneath their boots. The dense forest gave way to a long stretch of rolling dunes.
The wind picked up, warm and dry, tugging at their cloaks and hair.
Erik stuck his tongue out instinctively.
Salty.
As they climbed the slope of the nearest dune, the sound grew louder—more distinct. It wasn't just a whisper. It was crashing, rolling, surging. Like something alive.
Erik reached the crest and paused—his breath caught in his throat.
Before him stretched a body of water so vast it defied comprehension. Waves rolled endlessly toward the shore, crashing in thunderous rhythm. It wasn't like any lake Erik had seen—this had no edge, no visible boundary. It stretched far beyond the horizon, as if it reached into eternity.
"The sea" Erik muttered to himself.
It shimmered under the evening sun, a molten sheet of gold and crimson. The sky near the horizon burned with orange fire, and the sun hung low—so low it almost kissed the water. The sea devoured the light with a calm, eternal hunger.
To Erik's left, golden sand dunes curved like ribbons along the shoreline, flowing with the wind. To his right, the same—an unbroken chain of sand and sea, bordered by distant cliffs like silent sentinels.
He could feel it in his chest. Not awe. Not fear.
Emptiness.
The sea felt profoundly empty, as though it could swallow the world whole and still hunger for more.
"So, Erik," Yosul said beside him, his voice quiet, reverent. "This is the beach."
Erik didn't reply.
He was still staring, completely mesmerized by the sight in front of him.
"Okay guys we'll patrol the area a bit until we find a place for tonight, we'll continue tomorrow" Yosul said.
With that the team got back on the their horses and started looking for a place to spend the night.