Bab 82: Loosely kept secret.

Two Years has passed since the fall of the Byzeth king.

The moon held low in the dark sky, offering silver light upon the roads of the Byzeth Kingdom.

The wind carried the scent of the northern fields, and a man in a worn, dark cloak rode swiftly upon a horse, its hooves thundering against the earth.

His face was obscured, a hood shadowing his features, but his intent was clear—there was no hesitation in his pace, no falter in his gaze as he urged his steed onward through the winding paths, past the small towns and provinces of Byzeth.

He pressed onward through the night, his silhouette became a fleeting after image across villages that slumbered beneath the stars.

Fields transformed to cobblestone streets as he approached the capital, the proud structures of the city rising before him, tall and imposing. He did not slow as he rode through the gates, past the watchful eyes of guards stationed along the path.