The sun had barely risen when Astrael stepped out of his room, freshly bathed and dressed in a light training tunic. Today was the day he'd begin preparing for his journey into the Elderwood Forest. There was no rush—not yet, but the intent in his mind was clear. If he wanted strength, he'd have to step into danger.
But not unprepared.
He started with his gear.
The armoury wing was situated behind the training hall, its door rarely opened except for inventory checks.
Astrael stepped into the dust-laced chamber, greeted by rows of weapon racks, armour stands, and storage chests sealed with iron locks.
He moved past the larger halberds and ceremonial blades, heading straight to a shelf lined with utility items, daggers, throwing knives, light gauntlets, and reinforced boots. He chose what felt right by instinct, checking balance, weight, and sharpness.
