A year passed. On a vast open field, the land closest to the Dragon Lair Mountain Range, nearly a million soldiers stood assembled.
They were the finest of their nations, men and women who had been hardened by endless drills, clad in the heaviest of armours forged for war, their hearts beating with unshakable zeal. This was no ordinary host, but a gathering of legends.
No man with the faintest tremor of fear had been allowed into these ranks, for fear was the scent of prey, and Saelix would hunt it.
At the vanguard, two hundred thousand cavalry stretched across the plain, mounted on horses and wolves alike. Their line seemed unbreakable, a tide of muscle and steel that could trample cities into ruin with a single charge.
Behind them, six hundred thousand infantry stretched in disciplined blocks, the true backbone of the host. Spears and halberds gleamed in the muted light, their banners snapping violently as the wind rose.
