"Run, run, run! You all heard what the old man said!" Moretz shouted as he almost tripped over the root of a tree while running far faster than he had ever done in his life.
Beatrice was lagging behind with two other youths, but the others didn't seem to pay them any mind.
Rolan, meanwhile, was at the very forefront of the running group.
As a warrior, he had an edge when it came to physical exercises. He had always been mocked whenever his glaring weakness of not having a long ranged form of combat shone in battles between mages, but he was sure that the mages were currently wishing that they were warriors instead.
He was at the very front and was ahead of the group by a very large margin, but it didn't matter to him.
'There isn't anyway to go about it... Once old man Zindi loses, that monster will come for us.'
He tightened his grip on the sword hung beside him.
'What in the world could have even caused such a change??'
