The Sky-Rail was humming beneath Albedo's boots, constantly vibrating like a heartbeat. Albedo sat in a seat in the front cart, arms crossed as he stared out the crystalline windows
He'd left the Empire's boards a couple hours ago, and was now, the scenery had already changed massively. Canyons clawing at the sky paired with hollowed-out mountain paths which were the battlefields for ancient battles.
The terrain here bore the scars of forgotten wars, faded banners still embedded in stone outcroppings, now rusted and broken. Wind howled outside like a distant dirge.
This was the Badlands.
A lawless region wedged between three superpowers, the Human Empire, The Elven Kingdom and the Demon Kingdom of Necrothorn.
Officially, it was unclaimed, left to its own devices. Unofficially however, this region was ruled by no less than four crime syndicates.
Crimson Hollow.
That was his stop.
