The sky over Nocture remained dark even as dawn approached. Thick fog clung low to the ground, drifting like the world's held breath. There were no birdsong, no rays of sunlight piercing the deathly mist that perpetually shrouded the city. But to Sofia, this was home a place where silence wasn't a threat, but a sign of readiness.
She stood on the balcony of the western tower, wearing a gray combat cloak bearing the emblem of Nocture on her shoulder. Behind her, the city's banner fluttered gently in the damp wind. Below, the training ground was filled with undead soldiers conducting combat simulations.
There were no shouts. No harsh commands. Only perfectly coordinated, silent movements. That was the strength of Sylvia's army disciplined death.
Zark approached from the left side of the balcony, carrying two scrolls and a large map freshly redrawn. The half-undead man gave a respectful bow before speaking.
