Walking inside the Federation hideout, Thoren did not lower his guard for even a moment. Three elite undead servants surrounded him, protecting him from all angles.
One could never be too cautious.
Leading the formation was the Level 18 undead Royalty Stonewall. It advanced steadily, its heavy footsteps echoing through the empty corridors like the march of an unstoppable fortress.
Thoren's deep blue eyes scanned every corner as they moved deeper into the building.
The first room they entered was barren.
A long wooden table stood in the center, scattered with cups and empty plates. A few cabinets lined the walls, containing little more than food supplies and common utensils.
Nothing valuable. Nothing strategic.
They continued forward.
Room after room revealed the same emptiness. Sleeping quarters with neatly arranged bedding.
There were no documents. No maps. No treasures. No hidden vaults.
Nothing.
Thoren was not discouraged.
