The Will to Stand
It took half a day for Eon and Brinda to return with at least a hundred men.
The sun had already begun its slow descent toward the western horizon by the time they arrived. Long shadows stretched across the wilderness outside Fantom City, painting the earth in shades of gold and amber.
The gathering point that had once been quiet was now crowded.
Mercenaries.
Former gang members.
Veteran fighters.
Young warriors who had never seen a real battlefield.
Men and women from every corner of the region stood together beneath the fading sunlight.
Some carried swords.
Some carried spears.
Others held bows, axes, or staffs.
Yet despite their differences, every single one of them wore the same expression.
Unease.
Fear.
Expectation.
The rumors had already spread.
An army was coming.
Not bandits.
Not enemy soldiers.
An undead army.
Meanwhile, Clara had yet to return.
