The forest was alive with the ambient hum of mana energy, a serene contrast to the carnage Lyerin had left behind.
His body, though still aching and battered, bore the signs of someone who had endured unimaginable trials and emerged stronger, if not completely sane.
A satchel bulged at his side, filled with the mana crystals he had harvested from his latest exploits.
Each crystal pulsed faintly, casting a soft glow that illuminated his bloodstained figure as he trudged through the dense woodland.
As he neared a crossroads, his heightened senses detected movement ahead. He paused, narrowing his eyes as he scanned the trees.
A subtle shifting of leaves betrayed the presence of others.
Soon, emerging from the shadows, a group of soldiers materialized, clad in the familiar makeshift armor of the temporary members of his new tribe.