The next morning, the soft, warm light of the rising sun gently greeted the small caravan consisting of two horse-drawn carriages. Dew still clung to the blades of grass along the edge of the rest stop, sparkling like tiny gems under the newly risen sunlight. The morning air felt fresh and invigorating, mixed with the scent of damp soil after last night's light rain, the faint smell of a dying campfire, and the subtle fragrance of green forest leaves.
Sylvia woke up first as usual. Her undead body was already refreshed and full of energy without needing long rest. She glanced toward the Eternal Party's carriage not far away. Elara and her team members were also starting to stir, stretching their bodies, checking their equipment, and preparing themselves to continue the long and uncertain journey ahead.
