After the Earl's short, gratitude-laced speech, the Magisteria soldiers moved out alongside a few hundred reinforcements — local guild members, mercenary units, and the hired blades the Earl's brother had managed to gather. Together, they left the castle behind and marched toward the battlefield, which lay only a few hours from the city walls.
The journey itself was silent enough to weigh on everyone. It took barely four or five hours to reach the outskirts, and on the way, Cassian finally saw the true damage the cult had carved into the land.
Village after village stood hollow, houses abandoned, doors swaying loosely on broken hinges. Not a single soul remained — not even animals. The only sounds were the low murmur of soldiers and the dull, steady thud of horses' hooves and carriage wheels rolling over dirt roads.
