Countess Gretelle had made a mistake.
To aid her research, she needed Fangscale Lizards, and the closest place to obtain them was the Wastefield.
The reason she had posted the request in the first place was the lack of stock from her usual suppliers.
Bothered by the delay, she sent out the request. When no one accepted it, her lack of patience led her to send her apprentice, Fiore, instead.
But now, after a full day with no word from Fiore, Countess Gretelle realized something was wrong.
Without delegating it further, she made her way to the Wastefield herself. It wasn't a place befitting someone of her standing.
A Countess had no reason to step into a zone where discarded experiments and failed works were thrown aside, left to rot among the lowest circles of witches.
But this wasn't something she could ignore. This required her direct involvement.
The moment she stepped into the area, she noticed it.
"A distortion…?"
