[The Eastern Plains of Zahryssar — Sunset]
The battlefield was silent. For the first time in two days, no war horns echoed across the eastern plains.
Only the wind moved. It drifted gently through the sea of broken banners, shattered shields, and abandoned weapons scattered across the blood-soaked earth.
The Imperial Army had won. Yet no one celebrated; thousands of soldiers moved quietly across the battlefield, some searching for survivors and others gathering the wounded.
A victory bought with blood never felt like victory. Captain Varesh removed his helmet; his hair was soaked with sweat and blood, and he looked across the battlefield where hundreds of crippled Cursed Black Serpents had already crumbled into black ash after Azhrakaal's retreat.
"They disappeared."
Arkhazunn nodded. "As soon as Azhrakaal withdrew his power...their bodies collapsed."
