The rowdy tavern suddenly calmed into jarring silence in that single moment.
Everyone's gaze turned towards the batwing doors, as a faint scent of pollen and wet soil drifted through the air.
In this tavern, though not all were of equal might, everyone present was an expert, so naturally they all felt an alarming flare in their instincts.
Powerful experts—ones unlikely to be seen in a small settlement like Greenfold—were approaching.
And only a single group fit this bill: the scary group of big shots who had suddenly shown up within their settlement weeks ago… the Treants.
Audible gulps rang out as once-proud alien evolvers shrank their heads, staring down at the table, not daring to make a single noise.
Seth and the others felt an inexplicable pressure mount over them, as Malgo hopped off the bar top, tucking himself into a hiding spot.
