Helbian County, outer border of the Mehan Kingdom.
The wind rolled in slow and dry, brushing against the coarse grass and crumbling edges of old stone walls, long since abandoned. A figure stood at the ridge—tall, commanding, and still.
The woman at the front wore nothing like the plain armor or robes of the locals. Her outfit was sharp, form-fitting black, cut low enough to frame her full, mature bust with bold confidence.
Wide hips hugged tight by flexible fabric, a body that looked both dangerous and indulgent—like something sculpted from heat and battle.
She carried herself like a queen who had turned assassin, and her mere posture was enough to silence the four other figures flanking her—all masked in the same black assassin garb.
Her hair was a cascade of raven-black silk, tied loosely at the back, strands blowing across her sharp, pale cheekbones.
