The group, led by Garnt, marched with purpose toward Baktou's mining village. It wasn't just a simple march but rather a group fueled by the anger of what they had witnessed.
"Even if the patriarch wants, I'm never going to forgive what they did to our people,"
"Yes, they might be seaside villagers, but they belong to our faction. This is unacceptable,"
The crowd kept muttering as they advanced.
The air was thick with tension, and the distant echoes of their battle cries reverberated through the quiet forest. The anger and determination fueled their steps, but as they approached the mining village, a sense of unease settled over them.
The once imposing wooden walls of the mining village stood tall and seemingly impenetrable without many changes. Garnt, eyes narrowed, observed the surroundings, trying to discern any signs of Baktou's presence. However, an eerie silence hung in the air, and the absence of resistance puzzled him.
