The next day, 7 a.m.
Ashhorn Mountains, near Dragonvault Ridge.
Williams eased the vehicle to a stop on the gravel shoulder.
"Ethan… we're here."
No one had logged into the game last night. Ethan had barely managed to catch a few hours of sleep.
Ever since they'd set off, Victor had been on edge—he could feel it again. That same killing aura. And for Ethan, a gnawing sense of dread had returned, creeping in like a fog that wouldn't lift.
All night, Ethan had kept his Soul Sense extended. It now spanned nearly five miles. Despite the strain it put on his Soul Power, he hadn't dared let it down—not until exhaustion finally took him three hours ago.
Markham's instructions were clear: Ethan was to reach the highest point on the left flank of Dragonvault Ridge. He would be waiting there.
Once they stopped, Ethan turned to Williams. "Need a break?"
The man had been driving all night—it showed. Williams shook his head. "I'm good."
