The Iron Brotherhood's second watchtower wasn't hard to find.
Their strategy always placed one above ground and another hidden below, a secret betrayed by an abandoned well in the Blightroot Clan's desolate southern fields.
The 7th Division, disguised as farmers, dove into the well's depths, landing fifty meters down in a cavern of suffocating darkness. Without any words to themselves, their magic sparked, conjuring orbs of light that flickered around the surroundings, and with their perception, they could see seventy meters around them. The air was damp, heavy with the scent of mold and iron, meaning the enemies had been here, but no enemy presence stirred, no auras, no mana. Even as they spread to expand their perception, still nothing.
"They're running that way," Baines suddenly said, his voice slicing the silence as he pointed into the darkness and ran after them.
