In Delria, the early morning air reeked of the great river.
Ian walked down the hillside. Gaga was perched on his shoulder, its black feathers refracting an eerie, multicolored light in the sun.
The little guy's small eyes swept over the scene ahead. "Ian, it looks like they don't plan on letting us pass."
"If they're looking to die, they can't blame me." Ian didn't break his stride, continuing toward the royal palace.
Outside the camp at the foot of the mountain, a mass of soldiers had already gathered—a dense, dark sea of at least a thousand men.
They wore earth-yellow uniforms and held automatic rifles, their eyes filled with nervous vigilance.
They had received their orders last night: stop this man, at any cost.
"Halt!" A man who looked like an officer stepped forward.
"Mr. Yin, the King has given an order. Please… please return to the camp to rest first."
