The night air in Ranevia was sharp—cold in a way that ate at the bones rather than sliced at the skin. The wind howled like a mourning widow through the broken windows of forgotten homes, rattling shutters and carrying the scent of blood, rot, and old woodsmoke.
But here, at the edge of the Mad Vipers' territory, the air shifted.
Lan, Seraphine, and the Fourth Guard followed closely behind Venom through the crooked paths of Ranevia's main district.
Lanterns burned low along the roads, barely enough to light the mud-caked alleys, but Venom walked with purpose, his pace slower than usual—limping slightly from their earlier clash.
Eventually, they came to a stop before a building.
It stood tall—three stories high, with reinforced stone at its foundation and weathered blackwood making up its frame.
