Earlier, as the golden army moved through the night, Lord Commander Thaddeus raised his gauntleted hand to signal a halt. His pale blue eyes scanned the distant castle walls, noting the strange lights that flickered within and the unnatural energy that seemed to pulse from the old stones.
"Captain Markus," he called to one of his human subordinates, a grizzled veteran with scars crossing his weathered face.
"Yes, my lord?" Markus replied, guiding his warhorse closer to his commander's mount.
"Tell me again—is the intelligence true? Has the Redmoon Coven truly gathered in such numbers at this place?"
Seeing the place had no guards and there wasn't anyone who came out to meet them. It seemed like the place had no minimum security.
Captain Markus nodded grimly, his hand unconsciously moving to rest on the blessed sword at his side.
