Hajin plunged through the moonlit canopy of the western forest, his reinforced leather soles absorbing the vertical impact as he touched down upon the damp soil.
The pungent odor of combusted sulfur and necrotic rot fouled the crisp night air, cutting sharply beneath the rich fragrance of crushed pine needles.
Several miles to the east, the ramparts of the royal capital rose against the starry horizon, their defensive perimeter secure from immediate devastation.
'The civilian populace remains entirely insulated from the impending concussive shockwave,' Hajin observed analytically, rolling his bruised right shoulder to test his mobility.
A sharp grimace tightened his jaw as the joint protested, but the bone remained sound.
The surrounding forest was ancient and rugged, characterized by massive cedar trunks, moss-draped boulders, and tangled roots that provided abundant tactical terrain.
