Near the threshold of the forest's edge, where the city lights of Old Gonn cast feeble illumination, and where the moonlight kissed select corners with its radiant touch, emerged a figure from the shadows of the woodlands.
Sensing a lurking danger at the fringes, they swiftly assumed their combat stances, their instincts honed sharp by the hardships endured along their journey. Even the youngest among them, spurred by bitter experience, adopted their defensive postures with practiced ease, while Porna, with deliberate caution, edged his hand closer to his back.
'No wonder. Our sh*tty luck is for real,' Leon, 'This guy is a f*cking owl type Tayirian.'
"May I see your guard ID?"
In kindred response, he too gripped his sword, recognizing the telltale signs.
After all, their eternal nemesis, harbored no hesitation in extinguishing their lives, indifferent to the shedding of blood.
