45. The Curse of The Sleet Kingdom

The jeep rumbled along a desolate road flanked by wastelands, stretching endlessly on either side. The scenery was hauntingly barren, marked by a few twisted, lifeless trees standing. Occasionally, a jagged boulder jutted out of the earth, as if nature itself had been torn apart here. Emric tightened his grip on the wheel, his gaze fixed on the horizon. Jayden sat beside him, his expression a mix of unease and curiosity, his mind grappling with the realization that he’d never known this part of the woods existed. The air was heavy and stifling, carrying with it a silence so profound it seemed to hum. Jayden shifted uncomfortably as the jeep slowed, the engine’s growl softening into a low purr. “This,” Emric began, his voice quiet yet charged with the weight of a history long forgotten, “the Sleet Kingdom. It was once a land of peace, a haven of calm during the reign of kings. But something—an unknown force—cursed this place. Now, it’s abandoned, forsaken by both man and beast. No one d