The land stretched endless before them, a vast expanse of jagged cliffs and barren valleys. The second tree's pull remained steady—a distant, unwavering force, guiding Argolaith forward.
But it was still so far away.
One million miles.
Kaelred groaned, rubbing his face as he trudged behind them. "Okay. I need to ask the obvious question—how are we supposed to keep up this pace for that long?"
Argolaith adjusted his grip on the hilt of his sword, his eyes locked on the horizon. "We manage."
Kaelred let out a short laugh. "Yeah? And when we collapse from exhaustion? What then?"
Malakar, ever composed, smirked. "Then you collapse. And we leave you behind."
Kaelred shot him a glare. "You're hilarious."
Malakar shrugged. "It is not humor. It is fact."
Kaelred groaned loudly. "I hate both of you."
Argolaith smirked but said nothing.
