Ren and Elena cautiously entered the warehouse.
The building measured roughly fifty meters on each side, its vast interior illuminated by rows of enchanted moonlight braziers. Most of them had already burned out, leaving large portions of the warehouse swallowed by shadow.
Old carts, abandoned wagons, and broken carriages were stacked everywhere, forming narrow corridors and makeshift walls that turned the warehouse into a maze.
Ren instinctively rested a hand on [Inferno].
Something felt... off.
There were no ambushers.
No hidden assassins.
No elaborate trap.
Only the sound of frantic footsteps echoed through the darkness.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Ren and Elena rounded a towering stack of wagons and froze.
At the very back of the warehouse, an Elven woman twirled helplessly across the floor.
She wore an elegant pair of rose-pink slippers adorned with glittering Princess-cut gemstones.
Queen Floraia's slippers.
The thief, Lydia El'Ranatoth, looked utterly miserable.
