In Fallenwinter, the city's countess wore an anxious expression on her face.
At the top of the tallest tower in the city lord's mansion, she gazed toward the horizon, her eyes tirelessly scanning the tree line, searching for any sign of movement.
Her delicate fingers twined around a strand of golden hair, twisting it absentmindedly as the anxiety of waiting slowly tormented her from within.
The biting wind of Fallenwinter's early morning whipped against her dress, pressing the thin fabric against her slender frame, but she barely felt it.
All her attention remained fixed on that distant point where the forest met the sky.
She closed her eyes for a brief moment, drawing in a deep breath before forcing herself to stand.
No sooner had she turned her back on the horizon than something made her freeze in place.
A pulse of aura, powerful enough to cut through the entire forest and reach her even at that distance.
