The journey that should have taken two days at most was conquered by Asher and Ifrit in a mere sixteen hours.
As they descended into the Kingdom of Felmora, Asher was struck by the scale of the devastation. Debris choked the streets and shattered buildings stood like jagged teeth against the sky.
Catfolk were everywhere, some hauling away wreckage while others labored over the slow, grueling process of reconstruction.
"Sword mode, Ifrit!" Asher commanded. The demon shifted instantly, its form compressing into a blade that Asher slid into his scabbard before navigating the ruined streets.
He made straight for the palace. By some stroke of divine luck, it remained one of the few structures left standing.
As he approached, he found the gates heavily fortified. Royal knights in silver plate stood shoulder-to-shoulder with guards whose fur was a striking mix of obsidian black, snow white, and pale blonde.
'The Shadowlings,'Asher realized. Tama had talked a lot about them.
