Mia Frostine's POV
The next morning arrived with biting wind and restless skies. We gathered at the outskirts of the capital where the recon units waited, already geared up and briefed. Their expressions were solemn. No jokes, no small talk—just sharp eyes and quiet movements. War changes people quickly.
Seraphine was the first to arrive. Dressed in dark tactical gear, her twin blades strapped across her back like she was born for battle. Her eyes were fierce, but she gave me a nod of recognition. She wasn't the type to waste time with pleasantries.
Nock followed, holding a thick manual under one arm—probably his latest revised doctrine on battlefield defense formations. He greeted a few priests who were embedded in the recon force. Their light armor and holy relics shimmered faintly under the grey dawn. Unlike Seraphine, Nock had always preferred a more structured approach—calculations, divine alignment, and shields strong enough to break sieges.
