In front of Lord Magnus's territory, Ethan stood like a wall of inevitability.
The morning sun barely lit the snow-covered valley surrounding the fortress-city. Jagged towers and black stone walls loomed above like a crouched beast, prepared to strike. The air buzzed faintly with defensive enchantments and buried mana sigils waiting to be activated.
Ethan paid them no mind.
His long coat fluttered behind him as his presence alone made the air heavy, oppressive. The dirt beneath his feet had cracked just from the pressure of his mana.
Moments later, the heavy iron doors opened, and out stepped Lord Magnus himself.
Cloaked in indigo battlewear lined with silver trim, Magnus was a large man with sharp features and colder eyes. His aura was controlled, steady, befitting a high commander and ruler of one of the mightiest territories in the first sanctuary
His frown deepened when he saw Ethan.
