CHAPTER 250: THORNFIELD & THE CRESCENT MARKET
The fourth day of the journey opened with a thin mist hanging lazily over the vast grasslands, like a silver veil waiting for the sun to lift it. Before dawn could truly greet the world, Dom and Adul were already busy at the makeshift stable, meticulously checking the horses' leg joints. Orva poured boiling water into metal cups with a soothing glub-glub sound, distributing herbal tea—a lingering stash from Qaqortoq—that still carried a potent, earthy aroma. In another corner, Naya sat quietly on a rock, her hands moving rhythmically as she ran a dagger across a whetstone. Sshh... sshh... a routine that felt more like meditation than a preparation for war.
Roland emerged from his tent looking surprisingly dapper for a wanderer. Somehow, he had managed to slick back his hair even in the middle of nowhere. Rianor was already seated near the dying embers of the campfire, a notebook with nearly exhausted pages resting on his lap.
