Damian’s POV
After days of endless running, I finally crossed into Crescent Valley.
The moment my boots pressed into its soil, I felt the shift. It was like stepping out of a storm into sunlight, even though the sky above was painted in shades of dusk. This land was different—untouched, unburdened. Where my own territory carried the heavy stench of politics, secrets, and rotting lies, Crescent Valley breathed.
The forest stretched around me like a living cathedral, trees arching skyward with leaves that shimmered green and gold beneath the last rays of the sun. The air was saturated with scents—damp earth rich from recent rains, wildflowers spilling sweetness through the underbrush, the faint tang of moss clinging to bark. Birds still called from the canopy overhead, soft and melodic, a
