It took Corvin two days to raise his soldiers and travel to Goldhaven.
By then, his army had swollen to a staggering twenty one thousand. Holy Verrenate, what little was left of it had been most generous in defeat. Corvin might have even muttered may their gods bless them if he were in a more theatrical mood. After all, it was their priests, purifiers, paladins, and soldiers now marching under his banner, silent and Covenant Bound. Entire battalions had been reduced to obedient revenants. Even their famed sunforged armor had not withstood the tide of death.
He had shifted into an air elemental just beyond the charred remains of Verranus. The capital, once sanctified with towers of alabaster and gold, now stood broken, scattered across the fields like discarded relics. Looted to the last coin, razen to the last house. The scent of ash still clung to the wind, mingling with the faint traces of sanctified incense and scorched cloth.
