The campsite was quiet, save for the occasional crackle of the fire and the faint rustle of the forest. Shadows flickered across the faces of the men gathered around the blaze. Scombras and the elders of Amendolara, weathered by six months of imprisonment during the city's darkest days, bore the night's discomfort with stoic endurance. Compared to their ordeal, sleeping under the stars was no hardship.
The Thurii elders, however, were a different story. The howls of wild beasts echoing from the forest sent shivers down their spines, and the thought of insects burrowing through the soil made them restless. Still, none dared complain. Seeing Juleios himself wrapped in a woolen blanket and lying on the ground, they followed his example, though they tossed and turned through the night.
Out of the restless silence, a voice emerged, soft yet piercingly clear. "Archon, may I ask… after taking Neutum, does our League plan to continue advancing northward?" It was Vespa, the Lucanian elder.
