Eastern Side — Half an Hour Later
Raziel kicked open a half-collapsed door, sending rubble scattering across the cracked floor.
"This place smells like death," he muttered, wrinkling his nose.
Nyxirith, known for being silent, didn't respond and merely stepped past him, eyes scanning everything. The place resembled a plaza. It stretched as far as the eye could see. There were broken stalls, shattered magical lanterns, and scorched banners still fluttering in the wind.
It might've once been a market.
But now… Nyxirith couldn't help but see it as a graveyard.
For the last thirty minutes, the duo hadn't found anything useful. All they'd been doing was hiding from the Scourge beasts patrolling the skies while keeping an eye out for the humanoid commander.
"Let's split up and check the stalls one by one to see if we can find anything useful," Nyxirith suggested.
"Sure," Raziel nodded, and the two went their separate ways after agreeing to meet in the center.
Creak.
