The concentrated hammer of the Doom Monarch's assault reached the southern front at midday, and the southern front was waiting for it.
From the command center, the three remaining commanders watched through the shared picture. Ronaisan had thinned the other fronts as far as he safely could and pushed the strength outward, exactly as Almond had asked. Jaskrit's storm fleet held the gaps. Joaka's barriers covered the seams. The rest of the ocean was secure.
Which meant all three of them were free to watch the south.
The Doom assault was the densest thing the war had produced. The Monarch had compressed the strength of three ordinary waves into a single front, siege creatures packed shoulder to shoulder, Tier-98 units marching in ranks, and at the heart of the formation, two of the surviving Doom Titans from the Mountain, rebuilt and re-armored, anchoring the hammer like the heads of a spear.
It crossed the final stretch of ocean toward the Suryax-Regalon island.
