Klaus's army stood before the capital of Lionhart. The towering walls that had defended the kingdom for centuries now looked fragile against the might gathered outside.
On one side stood the defenders, soldiers in armor, nobles' private troops, and civilians pressed into service. On the other side was the Messenger's army, a force that carried no hesitation and no weakness.
At the front stood Klaus. Behind him stretched the death legion, thirty-eight thousand beings created from corpses and bound by his will.
Their bodies were twisted, their skin pale, and their movements stiff yet unyielding. To their sides and rear stood ten thousand human soldiers of Riverdale, arranged in clean formations, their discipline a sharp contrast to the chaotic and nervous defenders inside the city.
Klaus raised his hand, and the order to attack spread through the ranks.
The death legion surged forward first.
