"Speak."
Damien's voice cut through the wind—calm, cold, and unquestionable.
He didn't turn around.
His bloodstained figure stood tall amidst the wreckage, eyes locked on the horizon where clouds of dust roiled like an advancing storm.
Behind him, the Iron Dungeon Stronghold Leader immediately stepped forward, his head bowed in deference.
"Crown Prince," he began, his tone grim, "the main army of the Blue Hammer Kingdom has been sighted approaching. Judging by their formation and speed, they're not here for negotiation."
He paused, gathering his breath.
"If I'm not mistaken… they're led by one of the two Supreme Generals—likely the father of that girl."
But before he could finish the report, Damien raised a single hand.
A subtle gesture—yet the effect was immediate. The commander halted mid-sentence, lowering his gaze without resistance. In that moment, the only sound was the distant rumble of armored boots and the faint whistle of wind sweeping across the broken city.
