Meanwhile, deep in a dense, shadowy forest, Volk tread carefully through the underbrush.
The towering trees above formed a canopy so thick that only dappled sunlight broke through, casting eerie patterns on the ground.
The air was thick with the scent of moss and damp earth, and the distant calls of unseen creatures echoed faintly.
Volk pulled out the map once again. It vibrated softly in his hands, its surface glowing with shifting colors.
He studied it closely, his sharp eyes scanning the markings.
The dark green dots representing his horde members still pulsed faintly, scattered across the human kingdom and the Grand Canyon.
The yellow-green markings in the elven lands glowed faintly, representing the elves tied to his horde.
The red dots, the perished members, remained a painful reminder of those he had already lost.
But now, a new color has appeared.
It was a silvery-metal hue, unlike anything he had seen before.
