Azrath's POV
The sky was mine again.
It had taken years — centuries, perhaps — for this moment to come. And when it did, the heavens themselves trembled. I could feel it. The stars hid behind the dark clouds, the moon refused to rise, and the wind howled like it knew who had returned.
I stood at the edge of Eldorvale, the cursed wasteland that once used to bloom with light and laughter. Now it was ash and bone — just the way I liked it.
The black soil cracked under my feet as I walked toward the cliff overlooking my armies. The sound of armor and growls filled the air — thousands of voices, loyal, desperate, hungry for blood. The Uldar dwarves stood in tight ranks, their eyes glowing red under their iron helms. The Nocturnis vampires filled the shadows behind them, restless, their wings twitching like creatures ready to strike.
I raised my hand, and silence fell. Even the wind obeyed.
