“Another pair of doomed idiots,” someone muttered from the bunks.
“How long does this nightmare last?” a second voice sighed.
“Cyril really means to scour every outsider this time, doesn’t he?”

The murmurs wove together, pity and numbness flickering behind the same hollow eyes that appraised Jared and Luther.

Jared slid into the farthest corner, knees drawn up. Behind half-closed lids, his senses spread outward—mapping exits, counting runes, gauging the temper of both guards and prisoners.

Luther, never built for waiting, drifted toward a cluster of softer faces. He bowed just enough to seem harmless and kept his voice low.

“Friends, why were we seized the moment we crossed the gate? They claimed the City Lord lost some treasure.”

“Treasure, my foot,” an emaciated elder rasped. “That’s the story they feed tourists. The real goal is purging anyone from the eastern region—or anyone who’s even breathed its air.”

“The eastern region?” Jared asked, eyes no longer pretending to sleep. “The Azure Firmament Immortal Continent?”