A group of soldiers approached from the eastern road, their expressions were a mixture of exhaustion and shame. The prince stepped forward, his eyebrows knitted tightly.
"Report," Dalton Gyro ordered, his tone cold and formal.
The leader of the group, a young lieutenant with a face smudged by dirt and sweat, snapped a salute.
"Your Highness, we combed through the southern forest and surrounding hills as instructed, but..." He hesitated, glancing at Sirina, who was now glaring daggers at him.
"But what?" she demanded, her voice sharp enough to cut steel.
"We found no trace of him or the Dreamwalker," the lieutenant admitted, lowering his gaze. "It's as if they vanished into thin air."
Sirina's jaw tightened, her hand reflexively gripping the hilt of her sword. She turned away and paced a few steps, visibly wrestling with her emotions.
