Chapter 511 - Morning and Next Phase (End)

The soldiers converged beneath the ruined portcullis like wraiths summoned by a single heartbeat. Leather straps whispered as they pulled packs tight, and the muffled thud of boots on frost-slick flagstones was almost lost in the hush of rolling fog. Lyan stood just inside the broken gatehouse, silhouetted by guttering torch-light. Each man and woman who passed under his gaze touched the shaft of his glaive for luck. Some did it openly, others with a furtive brush of fingers—as if a brief spark of faith from cold metal might carry them the impossible miles ahead.