Under the heavy crimson sky that hung oppressively low, the outskirts of the Nightshade Kingdom had transformed into makeshift training grounds.
The bitter winds whispered across the fields, carrying with them murmurs of determination that defied their starvation, exhaustion, and despair.
Though their bodies were thin, their cheeks hollow, and eyes weary, the survivors of Bloodburn still moved with purpose, driven by a lingering hope that clung desperately to the life of their queen.
There was an unspoken understanding among the refugees—they were on borrowed time. Each sunrise brought uncertainty, each sunset despair, yet each day also brought renewed determination.
They knew it wouldn't be long before fate pushed them to flee again or to confront an enemy that might outmatch them once more. But as long as their queen still breathed, they held onto the fragile, precious belief that perhaps not all was lost.
