Commander Jax moved through the dimly lit corridors of the military barracks like a silent phantom, his sharp, ice-blue eyes scanning every shadow. The night was thick with tension, and the air carried the faint, rhythmic murmurs of off-duty guards gossiping over their evening ales.
As Jax rounded the corner near the upper garrison sector, he stopped, pressing his broad back against a stone pillar. Two lower-tier warriors were standing near a torch sconce, whispering frantically.
"Did you hear the news from the southern districts?" one guard muttered, checking over his shoulder. "They say General Garrick’s legion just rounded up and executed the families of those two hunters caught in the Frost-Bite Ravine. Wiped them out completely under suspicion of border smuggling."
"Keep your voice
