The location was dark. It was difficult even to see one's hand even if it was placed before one's eye.
Up above, the place the moon should have been was completely shrouded by dark clouds that rumbled every so often. However, even this rumbling couldn't mask the heavy breathing that pervaded the atmosphere.
At that moment, a group of men and women ran with everything they had. But, their speed was slow. Whether it was because of the disadvantageous terrain or the fact they were at the end of their ropes, both were reasons.
The group of 30 or so wore bits of torn linen covered in dirt and mud. It was impossible for fugitives to appear in the Border Region. The only explanation was that these few consciously chose to discard their armor.
At that moment, one of them suddenly stumbled and fell.
"Kid!"
An older man snapped his head around, reaching beneath the arms of the fallen knight and pulling him up.
