He hated himself for the excitement, yet he couldn't deny it. For the first time in years, he felt like a knight again.
He leaned back, staring at the roof of the tent.
If only he had a mage…
If only he had reinforcements…
If only they weren't already losing this war before they even understood the enemy…
His fingers curled into a fist.
"Tomorrow," he whispered, "I will see this enemy with my own eyes."
And he would no matter the cost.
Unknown to the commander, his enemies were already closer than any of them imagined.
Deep in the forest not far from the dead town, the moonlight sifted through the branches, glinting off hundreds of red, predatory eyes. The thralls moved on all fours, their slick limbs pulling them through foliage with unnatural speed. They were silent except for the faint rustle of leaves disturbed by their passing.
They were heading toward their next destination, another small settlement marked for extinction.
