"Finally made it."
Fierce winds howled across the wasteland, the earth was bone-dry, and black-brown gravel crunched underfoot with each step.
This was the exact border between the Withered Lands and the Desolate Desert.
Carlos had pushed hard for over three weeks straight to reach this godforsaken place.
Once he arrived, he stopped dead in his tracks, with five Purple Thornblade Guards forming a protective circle around him.
His eyes kept scanning toward the southeast...
One hour passed... then two... then three...
Suddenly, a cluster of figures materialized on the distant horizon.
Carlos's eyes lit up with excitement as he went out to meet them.
As the group drew closer, the distinct clatter of bones grew louder and clearer until they finally reached Carlos.
These were exactly the seven Purple Thornblade Guards and ten regular skeleton soldiers Carlos had sent ahead earlier.
