Dune's thoughts were consumed by the urgent mission ahead: finding Zephyrin, before Azrael could enslave it. Or he had to stop Azrael. How could he locate Zephyrin before Azrael or Zephyrin?
He needed to rely on his instincts and the faint traces of Neba energy he could sometimes sense.
The sudden rustle in the underbrush snapped Dune out of his thoughts. His Shroud sword materialized in his hand, the green Neba flaring around him.
He was ready for a fight, muscles tensed and senses heightened. But as he moved closer, the scene that met his eyes made him freeze.
In front of him was Hazel. Her golden hair was half-burned, and she bore several wounds. Her once-white attire was now covered in blood. She was breathing heavily, her body shaking with each breath.
[ Name: Hazel ]
[ Kills: 1 ]
Dune tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat. "Hazel..."