The cities were safe zones, places where they could dine and rest. But the mountains and the basin were dangerous territories, teeming with beasts, robbers, and mercenaries residing in the darkest corners.
If they were not powerful enough, they would become prey.
***
The sky was a shade of bright blue, with only a few white clouds floating lazily.
In the basin, the cool breeze carried the distinct, metallic stench of blood.
"Haha, these thieves must have mistaken us for weak travelers," Caleb said as he wiped the blood off his saber with a black cloth.
Sitting atop his horse, Igris looked down at the bodies of the thieves littering the ground. Among the ten horse thieves, some were cut in half, while the rest had been decapitated. Their blood colored the grass a dark crimson.
"We were only two people, and we even had the Crimson Horses. They probably couldn't handle the temptation."
