Meanwhile, Oliver was fleeing eastward with Rook. He rode atop the beast with a broad grin carved across his face as though fortune itself had descended upon him.
The creature thundered across the fractured landscape, its claws striking against stone with violent force as it occasionally vaulted over uneven ridges to avoid losing momentum.
The young man had orchestrated his escape in his head ever since they began nearing the edge of the fog.
And naturally, everything unfolded exactly as intended…
Oliver knew about the black canyon that lay beyond the mist, and the caravan had unknowingly advanced straight toward it. Without a doubt, they would have eventually entered the narrow trail imprisoned between those colossal canyon walls.
Continuing further along that route would lead them toward the northern territories of the Outer Ring.
And certainly, not everyone would survive the passage, because it was regarded as one of the deadliest routes within the Garden.
