The skies above the territories of Lord Mors were unnaturally quiet, the kind of silence that set Luca's sharp instincts on edge.
His form, that of a small raven with sleek black feathers, blended seamlessly with the overcast heavens.
In this guise, he was nearly undetectable, a shadow within shadows. It was one of his most reliable forms for reconnaissance, but even he couldn't shake the tension that gripped him as he flew.
The words of Lord Mors echoed in his mind:
"I need to know the humans' movements, Luca. Their silence isn't coincidence; they're planning something."
His piercing gaze scanned the landscape below, each beat of his wings propelling him further into enemy territory.
With his advanced senses, he detected things that most others would miss—minute vibrations in the air, faint murmurs from miles away, and the subtle glint of metal concealed beneath the foliage.
The humans were here.
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