As the sun dipped below the horizon, the group prepared for their next move.

  Boreas stood by the window, gazing out at the town he had once protected. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for leaving it behind, even if it had been beyond his control.

  Midas approached him, his voice low. “This isn’t your fault.”

  Boreas didn’t look away from the window. “Maybe not. But it’s my responsibility now.”

  Midas nodded, his expression unreadable. “We will make it right. But for now, we need rest. We have been marching through the forest non-stop, and the coming days will be quite testing.”

  Boreas sighed, “You are right. Some sleep will do us a world of good.”

  As the group tucked into their beds, Midas closed his eyes and cultivated after what felt like ages. He will need all the power he could get in the coming days.

  The first rays of sunlight crept over the rooftops of Dawncrest as the group moved through the quiet streets. The town was beginning to stir—merchants opened shutters with tired hands, and laborers shuffled to their tasks. But the atmosphere was heavy, and it was clear that the people of Dawncrest had grown accustomed to a life of fear and submission.

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  Boreas led the way, his steps purposeful. The others followed close behind, their senses alert. Mori kept her bow ready, her sharp eyes scanning the streets. Neres walked lightly, his movements silent and precise. Midas brought up the rear, his expression calm but his gaze sharp.

  As they neared the market square, the scene before them painted a grim picture. Several of the mayor’s guards stood near a fruit vendor’s stall, their weapons gleaming in the morning sun. The vendor, a thin man with trembling hands, was frantically trying to explain something, but his words were cut off by a guard’s harsh laugh.

  “You’re short again, old man,” the guard sneered, leaning over the stall. “That’s the second time this month.”

  “Please,” the vendor stammered, his voice quaking. “Business has been slow... I-I just need a few more days...”

  The guard snatched an apple from the stall, tossing it in the air before taking a bite. “A few more days? How about this—you give us the rest of your stock now, and we don’t burn your stall down tonight?”

  The vendor’s face paled, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

  Mori’s knuckles whitened as she gripped her bow. “This is disgusting,” she muttered.

  “Keep calm,” Boreas said quietly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We can’t risk exposing ourselves yet.”

  Midas stepped closer, his voice low. “We’re here to dismantle the system, not make a scene. Let’s keep moving.”

  Reluctantly, Mori nodded, though the fire in her eyes didn’t fade.