"The Law is not mercy or vengeance it is balance, and today, it breathes through those who still stand."
The aftermath of the Southern Flank ambush was a scene of controlled exhaustion. Vorath's Legion had been repelled, shattered, humiliated, and forced to retreat to regroup on the frozen plains. The sun, fully risen now, cast long, stark shadows across the battered, smoke-scarred walls. I stood on the rampart, watching the last of Vorath's forces vanish into the distant cover of the pines. My body ached, my sword arm was numb, but my heart was soaring. We had held the line, and we had defended the Northern Kingdom and mostly executed the Law.
"Marcus," Silas reported, his uniform ripped, blood smeared across his cheek, but his posture rigid with victory. "Southern Flank secure. Minimal casualties on our side. Vorath's siege teams were crushed. They weren't expecting organized defense, and we are clearing the perimeter now."
