[Field Report // Target: Leafmaw King]
[Stature: Small (approx. 5 ft)]
[Capabilities: High-level Stealth, Undetectable Aura, Flight]
[Special Defense: Molting Evasion upon critical injury]
Rolan scribbled the final notes of the field report, rolled the parchment tight, and secured it to the leg of a messenger raven. With a toss of his hand, he sent the bird winging its way back to Stoneheart City.
Unlike Orion's generation, who conquered through sheer, brute force, Rolan's cohort was different. They were products of the Academy. They understood that warfare wasn't just about swinging a hammer; it was about logistics, intelligence gathering, combined-arms tactics, and literacy.
Before the Youth Camp, Rolan had been illiterate. Now, his grasp of military science eclipsed ninety-nine percent of the Horde's veterans. He was a weapon sharpened by education.
"Rolan, your dragon... it's magnificent," Ava said softly.
