After what felt like an endless hour of battle, they finally managed to escape the shrinking roots and arrive at a wide open space.
And they were not the only ones.
Some groups with only two or three members also appeared.
Rarely could one see a complete team.
Many of them were covered in blood, and every single survivor wore an exhausted and stressed expression.
Looking around, Azar realized there were only fifty people left.
All around them, the roots had completely closed off the surroundings, leaving only this open area untouched.
"Where are the rest…?" Azar muttered.
Although he desperately wanted to rest, his mind refused to calm down.
Clenching his teeth, he forced himself to stand and approach the survivors.
"S-sorry… I-I'm the only one alive from my path… The groups with us… were all killed…" one of the students stuttered, his eyes hollow.
The gruesome way they had died refused to leave his mind, pushing his mental state close to collapse.
