The force of three hundred men and women walked quietly through the forest.
Raynoel led the vanguard with a handful of elite scouts, while a group of stern, battle-hardened Saints brought up the rear. Izikel, flanked by Sophia ahead of him and Lyzah trailing close behind, was nestled somewhere in the protective heart of the formation.
No one spoke. The only sounds were the muted rustle of boots against dry leaves and the occasional snap of a distant branch. Crickets chirped in the underbrush, birds cawed far above, and now and then a lone wolf howled at the fading light. But amidst it all, it was the rhythm of footsteps—soft, deliberate, and persistent—that stood out the most. It made Izikel more aware of just how many people were moving with him. Three hundred souls, yet the silence pressed like a weight on their shoulders.
As he walked, a thought came to him, unbidden.
'If they couldn't mine these crystals, then how did they get them?'
