The command was given. A single, clear, and unwavering "Let's go" from their newfound king was all it took. The unlikely crusade, the army of hope born from a single, desperate broadcast, began its march. The rhythmic, metallic clank of a thousand armored feet echoed against the black, volcanic rock of the cursed shore, a defiant heartbeat against the mournful roar of the gray, angry sea. At their head marched Kenjiro, the Amulet of Concordance a cool, steady weight against his chest, his slender frame an absurd, almost comical centerpiece for the sheer, overwhelming military power that followed in his wake.