The hunters stepped deeper into the ruins.
The air changed the moment they crossed the broken threshold. It felt heavier, colder, as if the stones themselves were breathing slowly around them. Walls stood crooked and wounded, their surfaces eaten away by time. Broken pillars lay scattered like fallen bones. Rusted metal frames jutted out of the ground, twisted and useless, remnants of something once grand and purposeful.
Kaelo turned in a slow circle, his boots crunching over debris.
"What was this place before it was abandoned?"
Miles walked ahead, his eyes moving calmly across the ruins, as if he was not seeing them for the first time.
"It was the vacation palace of King Oswin Sterling."
The words landed heavier than the silence.
The monk glanced toward Miles.
"Vacations are for peace, not chaos."
Miles did not slow.
"For him, vacation was hunting. You can call it his hunting cabin."
Kaelo let out a low whistle.
