At midnight, the skies to the west and south of the camp were simultaneously painted an ominous orange-red.
Flames shot into the sky, and thick smoke billowed, reflecting on the panicked faces of countless soldiers.
"Fire! We're on fire! Put it out!"
"We're under attack! We're under attack!"
Shrill cries and chaotic footsteps tore through the night's tranquility. The entire Allied Army camp, like a pot of boiling water, instantly descended into chaos.
Raylo stood before his tent, hands behind his back, calmly gazing at the distant flames.
The night wind blew through his hair, his robes fluttering loudly.
About fifteen minutes later, the shout Raylo had been anticipating finally came from the direction of the camp's central command.
"Bad news! Prince Karachi has been kidnapped!"
A Personal Guard Knight rushed before Raylo, his armor still stained with water and ash from fighting the fire.
"My lord, someone infiltrated the camp, and Prin—Prince Karachi… is gone!"
