Damien stood tall—straight as a spear—at the edge of the battlefield.
He was utterly alone.
His soldiers had already returned to Valthorn City with the spoils of war. There was no army at his back. No companions to share the burden of this final confrontation.
Only the howling wind whistled in his ears, whispering like spirits of fallen warriors, and above him, the sun hung low in the sky—sinking, golden, and solemn. It almost felt as if the celestial giant itself was watching… silently bearing witness to what was about to unfold.
Damien's expression was cold—sharper than steel, his face unreadable.
His gaze was fixed on the massive stone walls before him—the outer defenses of Blue Hammer Kingdom's capital.
They were colossal, constructed by the group of Divine Researchers, according to the rumours the king paid a hefty price.
Towers and walls stacked high like a fortress meant to defy the heavens themselves.
But Damien felt nothing.
No fear.
No awe.
Just resolve.
