Dust billowed beneath the heavy boots of the Guild members as they swept through the settlement.
Shyla marched at the vanguard, a deepening frown etching her features. Her silver eyes scrutinized every villager who cowered before their presence.
Disappointment swelled within her chest. These people were weak, malnourished, and broken. None of them possessed the spirit of a warrior, let alone the hidden power she was actively searching for.
"There is nothing here," Ryan grunted from behind the bulk of his shield. "Just scared sheep."
Shyla didn't deign to answer. Instead, her gaze drifted past the clustered huts toward the outskirts. A solitary wooden house stood there, nestled near the farmland.
Unlike the dilapidated structures rotting in the village center, this one looked remarkably sturdy. Smoke rose steadily from the chimney in a welcoming column.
"Let's check that one," she ordered.
