The wagon rocked gently as we left the Black Claw Guild behind. The wheels screeched over uneven cobblestones, carrying the lingering scents of celebration and relief away from us. On the horizon, the dark peaks of the Drakmor Mountains loomed beneath a twilight sky.
"This always reminds me of…" I murmured, staring at the road.
Reinhardt, seated beside me, raised an eyebrow.
"What's on your mind?"
I turned to him.
"Have you ever heard of a Holy Knight who destroyed an entire village, then enslaved its inhabitants in the Shadowlands?"
Reinhardt shook his head, looking thoughtful.
"No. Those files are classified top secret—even for someone of my rank. As far as I know, nothing like that was ever acknowledged."
Selene, her lunar hood drawn low, folded her arms.
"In any case, we don't have time to dig through secret archives."
A silence fell, broken only by the horse's hooves and the wagon's creaking.
Suddenly, a rumble echoed:
"Grrr…"
