Cries and low groans of pain filled the clearing. The village head, Omar, stood still as his gaze swept over the warriors resting around him.
After hours of running, they had finally come to a halt to rest.
Their bodies were battered, wounds seeping through torn flesh as they struggled to recover.
The elders were in even worse condition, their injuries far more severe. He had led them into this… and the outcome had been nothing short of devastating.
Worse still… his son was gone.
Guren had disappeared during the battle, and no matter how much he searched, there had been no sign of him.
A tightness gripped Omar's chest as the thought settled deeper.
He could only fear the worst.
'If not for him.'
The village head curled his fists as he fixed his gaze on Zephyrion, who stood leaning against a tree not far away.
