Dusk came earlier than usual.
The sky, which had been covered with dark clouds since noon, finally began to drizzle. Drops of water fell gently onto the village ground, soaking the traces of battle that had not yet completely faded.
But within Ironclaw Camp, no one was truly resting.
The warriors were busy tidying up their equipment, preparing their horses, and extinguishing the campfires one by one.
For them, tonight was just an ordinary night before returning to their respective pack territories.
But for some people in that camp.
Tonight was the beginning of a journey toward something far more dangerous.
Aurelia stood near the entrance of her main tent.
The light rain touched her hair, but she did not move.
Her gaze was fixed straight to the north.
Lucien emerged from the tent behind her.
In his hand was a long black cloak.
He stopped beside Aurelia.
"This journey won't be easy."
Aurelia smiled slightly.
"Important journeys usually are."
