The imperial banners advanced like withered shadows across the landscape.One hundred thousand soldiers…and yet, the silence that followed them felt like that of a defeated army.
It took them two days to reach the new front.Not because of distance… but because of fear.
The Kingdom's night withdrawal had sown paranoia among the men.Every tree looked like a Douglas hiding place.Every shadow, a blade ready to tear open throats.
They did not march like conquerors.They marched like the hunted.
Rumors spread through the ranks like an incurable disease:
— "The Sons of the Night…"— "They say they move without a sound…"— "The ones who kill without casting a shadow…"— "If they whisper your name… you're already dead…"
Some soldiers trembled even beneath the midday sun.
Naira rode at the front atop a black warhorse, her gaze fixed and cold.But no matter how hard she tried to ignore it, the state of her troops was undeniable.
The legionaries' eyes were sunken.Their armor stained by days of battle.Their souls fractured.
They no longer resembled the glorious army of the Empire.
And the harshest blow was the contrast.
At the beginning of the campaign, the Empire had arrived with more than two hundred thousand men.Now… they barely numbered above one hundred thousand.
And yet…
When they finally crested the last hill…when the morning mist dissolved…
Naira felt as if the world itself had frozen.
There, before them…
the Kingdom's new fortress.
Majestic.Imposing.Unassailable.
A double structure—walls high, thick, polished with recent magic.The Kingdom's emblems fluttered as though they had never known defeat.Seals gleamed across the stone, weaving a field of protection none of her mages had ever witnessed.
A general at her side murmured, his voice unsteady:
"My princess… this is… larger than Dara."
Another swallowed hard.
"The Kingdom… how? How could they have raised this in so little time?"
But the question that truly chilled them all was another:
"And where did they find so many soldiers… again?"
Naira tightened her grip on the reins.The numbers did not lie.
The last time she had seen them, the Kingdom had fewer than fourteen thousand still standing.Now…the scouts estimated twenty-two thousand or more behind those walls.
The same as at the beginning of the war.As if nothing had happened.
As if the Kingdom's losses had never existed.
The contrast was an insult.A direct strike against imperial morale.
The wind blew, snapping the Kingdom's blue banner as if mocking the Empire.
Naira felt her blood boil.Her teeth ground together.
This place…this wall…this impossible numerical resurgence…
it was a declaration.
The Kingdom was ready.
They were not.
And though she still commanded a massive army…for the first time since setting foot in these lands…
Naira felt something she would never admit aloud:
She was afraid.