"Check the place," Asher commanded, his voice calm but resonant.
"Eleazar, take the north with ten men. Simon, the south. Levi, go west. Moses, the east.
Nero, stay here with the rest and hold the center."
"Yes, My Lord!"
"Yes, My Lord!"
"Yes, My Lord!"
"Yes, My Lord!"
The four chief paladins responded in unison, voices sharp and resolute. Without delay, they moved out, shields at the ready, spears angled toward potential threats.
Asher strode toward the lord's residence—the so-called stronghold of this place. With a gentle push, the wooden door creaked inward, dry hinges groaning as he ducked beneath the low frame and stepped inside.
The air was stale, thick with dust and old wood. He found himself in a narrow hall, sparse and spartan. Nothing about it surprised him—Eden was never meant for comfort.
