Chapter 70 Attack Of The Berserkers

It was a new morning, and a peasant Scytan family of four strolled through the woods. The chirping of birds, the rustling of the wind, and the crunchy sound of the dried twigs and leaves they stepped on could be heard. While they walked, their parents made small talk. Lagging behind, seeming a tad terrified and uncomfortable with this journey into the woods, was a boy child, no more than twenty years of age. With fright in his eyes, he flicked them quickly towards every direction where he thought he heard strange sounds. His heart raced. “Mother, the father, do we have to come all the way out here? We're straying pretty far away from the Scytan territory, you know? The war might be over, but who knows, some Arthenish warriors might not have gotten the message yet!” The boy exclaimed, with fear in his voice. For the umpteenth time, he complained about this voyage. His younger sister, who walked before him and behind their parents, rolled her eyes. She had heard just enough of his worries.