The warhorses and Horror Wolves had vigorous endurance, and as the group traveled past the edge of their earlier line of sight, they finally saw a cluster of abandoned cottages dispersed across a desolate village.
Leon remembered... this was the village where he, Azeryan, and Lokhak had once picked up a pitchfork and grass sandals.
But now, the abandoned fields were overgrown with weeds, and the tattered mud-and-wood houses were dilapidated and on the verge of collapse.
Looking at this village, which—even though it was now under Orland's rule—continued to be devoid of human presence, Leon sighed.
This place was even more desolate than the last time he had seen it. It was hard to believe that nearly a year had passed, yet the villagers who fled still showed no signs of returning to rebuild their lives.
Still, a few run-down houses that could shelter them from the wind and rain were certainly more comfortable than camping in the wild.
