To the celestial bodies, today was just another day of work.
The sun ascended its heavenly throne, as per usual, illuminating the world with its warm and hopeful rays.
Beneath the sunrise, it was still dark.
…For those who survived the war in eastern Maegrath.
A majority of the surviving wizards of the Thirteenth and Fourteenth regiments, and the Prospect Platoons, were glad that they were now en route back to the safe borders of the empire, riding comfortably in military vehicles.
They still found it difficult to believe they somehow survived all that.
The Zephyr Battalion and the Boulder Guards, on the other hand, were as gloomy as one could be.
The former had lost all their officers, and the fate of their leader was unknown.
In fact, if they admitted what they believed in all honesty, they already considered Zephyron dead.
His chances of surviving an opponent whom Targon Rockbarrow couldn't defeat were slim.
