The deeper they ventured into the jungle, the wilder it became.
Every few steps revealed a new predator or danger waiting to strike. One moment it was a Tyrantmaw, a hulking beast with jaws large enough to crush a carriage. The next, it was a pack of shadow wolves circling them from the underbrush. Then came a band of raiders setting up an ambush, hidden behind vines and roots.
From above, a flying creature swooped down, its wings slicing the air with a screech. Below, something unseen stirred in the mud.
Each time, the result was the same—swift, brutal efficiency.
Orakh's commands were sharp and precise. His warriors moved like a single body, their coordination honed through years of battle. Before long, every threat that appeared was dealt with before Ren or the others even had to draw their weapons.
What could have been a massacre turned into an effortless march.
