"Leon!" she called out, knowing his supernatural senses would hear her perfectly despite the rush of wind that should have torn her words away. "When we're about five hundred kilometers from here – roughly at the midpoint of our journey!"

She felt the slight adjustment in his movement, which indicated he was listening and encouraging her to continue.

"The royal treasury of Miles Kingdom," she said, her practical nature asserting itself even in these extraordinary circumstances. "We'll be passing directly through their capital. Their palace holds one of the few meaningful treasures in this region – accumulated wealth from generations of trade with merchants brave enough to venture near the Forbidden Mist."

She was unaware of the true extent of Leon's wealth. To her, every treasury was an opportunity, every cache of resources a potential advantage. "We need casualties for whatever we might face in the mist. It would be wasteful to pass by such an opportunity when it's directly in our path."

Leon processed her suggestion in a fraction of a second. She had a point – even with his considerable accumulated wealth, one could never have too many resources. Causalities were like ammunition in extended conflicts; better to have too much than to find yourself lacking at a critical moment. If the treasury of Miles was indeed along their route, claiming it would add perhaps a few minutes to their journey at most.

"Accepted," he replied, his voice reaching her with perfect clarity despite their impossible velocity. "If it's in our way, we take it. Causalities can never be enough."

Seraphine smiled against his chest, pleased that her suggestion had been well-received. It was efficient, practical – qualities that Leon seemed to value even in the midst of such extraordinary circumstances.

The five-hundred-kilometer mark approached with shocking rapidity. What would have been days of travel for anyone else was reduced to mere moments under Leon's incredible speed. His supernatural senses, far more refined than any normal perception, picked up the change in the landscape ahead long before it became visible.

Walls rose from the horizon, but these were different from the fortifications they had blurred past during their journey. These walls were pristine, maintained with a level of care that spoke of significant wealth and pride. The stones were fitted with precision, the battlements decorated with ornamental carvings that served no defensive purpose but announced the prosperity of those within. The contrast to the various settlements and fortifications they had passed was immediately apparent – this was clearly the heart of Miles' Kingdom, where the royal palace would be located.

Leon decreased his speed marginally, though he was still moving at velocities that would seem impossible to any observer. The sonic booms of his passage softened from devastating cracks to mere rumbles, and the destruction in his wake lessened from catastrophic to merely dramatic. He had no desire to level entire city districts simply by passing through – such wanton destruction would serve no purpose and would only cause unnecessary destruction.

Within a few minutes, they had traversed the entire city. Citizens below might have noticed a strange disturbance in the air, a momentary darkness overhead like a cloud passing before the sun, perhaps a peculiar wind that rattled windows and disturbed market stalls. Still, Leon moved too quickly for any to truly comprehend what had passed above their homes and businesses.

The royal palace of Miles came into view, its towers and walls growing from distant architectural suggestions to looming structures in the blink of an eye. It was grander than Leon had expected for such a small kingdom – multiple towers connected by flying buttresses, walls of white marble that gleamed in the afternoon sun, gardens that surrounded the complex in carefully maintained geometric patterns.

Leon came to a stop before the main entrance, his movement ceasing as abruptly as it had begun. The ground beneath his feet cracked from the sudden deceleration, but he absorbed the forces easily. With surprising gentleness that contrasted sharply with the raw power he had just displayed, he set Seraphine down on her feet, his hands steadying her as she found her balance.

She took a moment to adjust, the sudden stillness after such intense movement requiring her body and mind to recalibrate. Her legs trembled slightly, not from fear but from the adrenaline of their journey, and she had to resist the urge to laugh at the sheer impossibility of what they had just done.

But as her eyes focused on what lay before them, she saw Leon's expression change dramatically. His usual controlled demeanor, the careful mask of confidence and power he always wore, cracked visibly. His eyes widened, genuine shock replacing his typical composure as he stared at the palace entrance.

The sight that greeted them at the royal palace of Miles was utterly unexpected, something that shocked even Leon, despite his extensive experiences and accumulated power. Before them, the palace presented a scene that defied every expectation, every assumption about what they would find in this remote kingdom at the edge of the Lower Domain...

Stone statues. Hundreds of them.

They stood in perfect formation across the palace courtyard, human-sized figures carved from what appeared to be gray stone, each one unique in its pose and appearance. Men and women, warriors and nobles, servants and guards – all frozen in grand, dramatic poses as if they had been captured in moments of glory or significance. Strange symbols covered every surface of their stone forms, intricate patterns that seemed to writhe and shift when viewed from the periphery. However, they remained perfectly still under direct observation.

The statues held their weapons at bay – swords sheathed or lowered, spears planted firmly in the ground, bows unstrung. It was as if they had been frozen in a moment of peace, of ceremonial rest rather than combat. Their poses spoke of confidence, of power held in check, of warriors who had no need to prove their strength because it was self-evident in every line of their forms.

But these weren't mere sculptures. Leon's enhanced senses screamed warnings that his conscious mind was only beginning to process. His heart hammered in his chest with an intensity that couldn't be a coincidence, couldn't be dismissed as simple surprise. The rapid beating was instinctive, primal – his body recognizing a threat that his mind was still trying to analyze.

And then there was the smell.

It was faint now, diluted by time and distance, but unmistakable to someone who had encountered it so recently. The same putrid, wrong scent that had emanated from the abyssal monster wearing the king's form, the creature he had killed just days ago. That smell of corruption, of something that shouldn't exist in the natural order, lingered around these statues like a poisonous perfume that had soaked into the very stones of the palace.

The speculation that formed in Leon's mind was terrifying in its implications. One abyssal creature had been dangerous enough, had required his serious attention to destroy. But if these statues were what he was beginning to suspect – if each one was or had been connected to that same abyssal corruption – then this palace was sitting on top of a nightmare that defied comprehension.

Hundreds of statues. Not a dozen, not a score, but hundreds of human figures frozen in stone, each one potentially carrying that same wrongness that had infected the king.

Leon's eyes rushed across the courtyard, counting, analyzing, searching for patterns. The statues were arranged with deliberate precision, not randomly placed but positioned according to some grand design he couldn't immediately decipher. They formed concentric circles around the palace entrance, with pathways between them that created a maze-like approach to the main doors. No one could reach the palace without passing through this garden of stone figures.

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