Squeak!
A sharp cry pierced his eardrums. Leandro abruptly came to his senses at the repeated squeaking of a rat near his feet.
When one walked and walked alone through a barren wasteland with nothing in sight, there were times when one helplessly sank into thoughts of the past like this. Yet strangely enough, today, whenever that happened, some small animal would appear from somewhere one after another and snap him back to awareness.
Just like long ago, when the [Omen] had led him to Prince Nathaniel in a moment of danger. As though it were anxiously trying to guide him somewhere specific.
‘What is it? Does this mean simply investigating Darsiano Territory isn’t enough?’
With that question in mind, how long had Leandro walked while following the [Omen]? Before long, he came across a group of people slowly trudging toward him.
‘Are those… people from Darsiano Territory?’
Leandro narrowed his eyes. The closer they came, the more unusual their appearance seemed.
Torn nightclothes, dust-covered faces, and the scant belongings they carried in their hands all spoke of how desperate their circumstances had been. At a glance, it was obvious they were refugees who had fled the territory in haste sometime during the night.
“Did something happen?”
At Leandro’s stiff, blunt question, the elderly woman at the front of the group turned…