The army split, a storm dividing into deadly currents. Seraphine's knights veered left, their shields raised as Akerian arrows rained down, clattering against the Sanctum Aegis's glow.
Velder's riders peeled right, their lances lowered, aiming for the manor's eastern towers.
Utilia charged alongside Arkanos, her gauntlets trailing sparks, her laughter wild as she smashed through a makeshift barricade of carts and spears.
The manor loomed closer, its stone walls bristling with defenders. Ballistae bolts screamed through the air, one grazing Utilia's shoulder, drawing a curse but no pause. Arkanos's eyes narrowed as he spotted movement on the walls—a young man in polished armor, barking orders, rallying archers. Their heir, he guessed, noting the blue cloak with a golden sunburst. Brave, but foolish.
