They continued their march through the dense, humid canopy of the marshlands.
Footsteps squelched in the saturated mud. Armor clinked softly against leather. Every Scout on the perimeter kept their eyes glued to the towering mangrove trees as they neared the central river.
While they were still on their side of the Great Divide, they couldn't afford to drop their guard.
"Are we even on the right track?" Viktor suddenly murmured from beside Ivan, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear as his dark eyes scanned the foliage around. "It feels like we're walking toward the drop zone. Shouldn't we go more south?"
Ivan just gave him a dry glance, not even bothering to slow his pace. "We're fine. I was the one who personally asked for this route."
