After a painstaking month of travel, Lucien and Marie finally neared their destination.
They had crossed mountains, burned through wastelands and met dozens of wandering races along the way.
Yet something felt off. Others seemed to avoid them entirely and the weaker ones even begged for their lives at the slightest bump.
It didn't take long for them to realize why.
It wasn't they who inspired such fear, but the disguises they wore.
Every time a passerby caught sight of their Varkhaal faces, they bolted like frightened prey or turned away as if their existence carried plague.
Lucien could only sigh. "Seems like Varkhaals aren't exactly the friendly type around here."
Marie folded her arms. "Maybe next time, we should disguise ourselves as someone less murdery-looking. But hey, at least no one's bothering us, right?"
