Northern Marsh Forest – Red Zone. 23:00 PM.
Ankle-deep mud that felt like a cold, hungry mouth, thumb-sized mosquitoes that buzzed with a menacing vibration, and an all-encompassing stench of rotten eggs—the unmistakable signature of sulfur.
This was far from the ideal setting for a second date.
But this was where General Riven Sudrath and Doctor Elena found themselves. They weren't under the warm, yellow glow of the capital's streetlights or sitting on the comfortable benches of a night market. Instead, they were wading through the primeval darkness of the Black Marsh, where the only light came from the dim, flickering mana-crystals mounted on their gear.
"Doctor, fall back. Stay at least three paces behind me," Riven whispered, his voice barely audible over the sloshing of the mud.
