Winhelm
"Hehe, why is this place like this?" Enzo muttered as they walked through the streets of the royal capital of the ice kingdom.
Cold air clung to the city like damp cloth, sharp enough to sting the lungs. Snowmelt pooled between uneven stones, turning the roads slick and gray as boots dragged through slush and grime.
One would assume this place to be the epitome of beauty and design. A frozen marvel where every brick was laid with care, every tower shaped to reflect the pride of an ancient kingdom.
Unfortunately, that illusion shattered the moment they stepped inside.
The buildings leaned toward one another like exhausted men. Rusted pipes ran along walls meant to be white, and patched roofs overlapped in chaotic layers.
This place looked like a slum.
"It's the most popular city on the entire planet. Everyone wants to be here," Leon explained calmly as he walked beside them.
His eyes never stopped moving, measuring faces, corners, exits.
