Days later, the army finally reached the boundary of the Abyss, and the moment they did, the world itself seemed to recoil.
The ground beneath their feet was blackened as though scorched by an ancient fire that never truly went out, cracked and uneven. The air reeked of death and old resentment, thick enough that even breathing felt heavier, as if every breath carried echoes of screams that had long faded into the void. The sky above was completely black here, light itself seemed unwilling to linger over the Abyss.
The horses sensed it immediately.
They snorted, stomped, and tossed their heads in agitation, their eyes wide and rolling as they felt the oppressive pressure pressing against their instincts. A few tried to rear, others attempted to turn back the way they came, and the tension rippled through the ranks as riders struggled to keep them steady.
