Rodell stood at the high balcony of his fortified manor, overlooking the rolling borderlands that separated human territory from the wilder regions beyond. The morning sun cast long shadows across the hills, but the light did little to ease the weight pressing on his mind. He had watched the recent events unfold with careful attention, piecing together reports from scouts, captured informants, and the occasional loose-tongued mercenary. The region he had marked for expansion was supposed to be the least threatening of all the frontier zones—scattered goblin tribes, disorganized orc bands, and little in the way of true coordination. It should have been simple.
Then he met Byung.
