People were rushing to the South. It wasn't just the villages at the edge of Faymere even folks from the cities had begun to flee.
With all the fame the 'House of Healing' had gained, it had become the major convergence point for the desperate.
It didn't matter whether they came from the polished stone avenues of Highcrest or the moss-ridden pathways. They were all eager to step into Faymere.
After all, when sickness swept through the land, borders dissolved like paper in the rain.
When Xion stepped out of the lab, the sight made him stop mid-step.
There, along with Noxian and his trusted healers, stood the village head and Lord Varnehold.
Xion's gaze landed on the lady behind her husband's bulky form.
Unlike Lord Varnehold's heavyset frame — one so broad it even obscured his eyes — the lady was petite, appearing too thin as she stood beside him.
"My lord, my lady," Xion greeted them with a polite smile.
