There was nothing standing in the way of Byung and his goals now—the Stonehide alliance was sealed through combat and intimacy, Grishka's loyalty bound to him in ways that transcended mere political arrangement, and the settlement thrived under capable leadership he had carefully cultivated. He knew where he needed to go: the black forest where trees grew twisted and dead, where the boundary between the known world and the dark continent blurred into something dangerous and uncertain. And Byung had made preparations with the meticulous care of someone who understood that poor planning killed as surely as any blade.
