The streets of Dandelion City stretched desolate and broken, the weight of the recent battle evident in every charred ruin and blood-streaked cobblestone.
Graviel led the group with his usual commanding presence, his silver hair glinting faintly under the moonlight.
Behind him, Elion and Verion walked in quiet contemplation, occasionally exchanging glances, while Kaelric followed with his soldiers, a storm of emotions hidden beneath his stern expression.
The citizens of Dandelion cautiously emerged from their hiding places, their faces pale and etched with fear. Yet, as their gazes fell on Graviel, whispers began to ripple through the crowd.
"Lord Graviel… he's returned."
"Look at those boys with him. Who are they?"
"They say the younger one killed the Dreds…"
Elion's golden eyes flicked to the murmuring crowd, his expression neutral. But his thoughts churned.