At dusk on the eleventh day, as the army crested the final mountain ridge, a vast, boundless plain unfolded before them all.
Upon the plain, two massive military formations, stretching for dozens of miles, faced each other from a distance. Between them flowed a wide river—the very same Nu River they had looped far around to meet again.
To the east lay the camp of the Fiery Sun Kingdom. Golden Fiery Sun banners snapped in the wind, and a dense spread of tents covered the land like an anthill. Countless soldiers swarmed through it like ants, and a grim, heavy aura washed over the newcomers.
To the west was the camp of the Thunder Dragon Duchy, its deep blue Thunder Dragon banners fluttering in the wind.
