It had been more than twenty minutes since Liam left the dungeon—or rather, broke it.
The air outside was fresh, the faint scent of pine and damp earth clinging to the wind. The forest behind him had already begun to fade into silence, as if the dungeon had never existed at all.
He followed the faint animal trails until they opened into a dirt road that stretched endlessly in both directions.
The ground was uneven, carved with grooves left by wagon wheels. The faint smell of horses and old smoke drifted in the air.
Liam paused at the edge of the road, brushing dust from his sleeve. He could have flown—he wanted to—but he decided against it. He didn't want to attract attention until he understood where he was. There was no telling what kind of civilization or beings inhabited this world.
"Medieval," he muttered quietly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied the landscape.
