Kapitel 387: Story 387: The Gathering Storm

The air around Zara felt electric, the oppressive weight of the forest pressing down as she moved deeper into the shadows. Her heart still pounded from the encounter with the enforcer, the memory of his dying words etched into her mind. He sees everything.

She gritted her teeth and pressed forward, her crimson sweater now streaked with dirt and sweat. Her hands rested lightly on the harness straps across her chest, the comforting weight of her pistol and blade reminding her she was not defenseless. But out here, in the King’s domain, it often felt like her weapons were merely symbolic—a flicker of defiance against a seemingly omnipotent force.

The trees thinned ahead, revealing a clearing bathed in eerie moonlight. Zara crouched low, her eyes scanning the area for any signs of movement. The clearing was littered with the remnants of a camp: burnt-out fires, shredded tarps, and abandoned supplies. It was a graveyard of the King’s victims, a silent testament to his control.