The thaw had passed.
The mud was firming, the roads stabilizing, and with the first full week of sun-drenched days since winter's grip released its hold, the war resumed in earnest.
Romanus no longer advanced like a single spear.
It surged now like a tidal wave — split, channeled, reinforced.
The Empire had bled through the snows, but never paused.
It had waited.
And now?
It was hungry again.
~
Eastern Front — La Morienne
Trumpets rang through the morning fog like jagged teeth scraping iron.
The eastward sun slashed red across Julius's field table as riders thundered down the slope, delivering dispatch after dispatch from the flanks.
His gloved hand hovered over the map, tapping a point south of the river Sepraine.
"The 13th has linked with the 11th. Push begins in two days."
Sabellus stood nearby, his face pale from lack of sleep.
"And the corridor?"
"Still secure,"
Julius answered without looking up.
