The sun had barely risen when a scout burst through the gates of Greystone, panting heavily, his armor scratched by brambles and his boots caked in mud.
"Enemy in sight! They've reached the border!"
Lucas was already in the central command tent, surrounded by his lieutenants and his closest companions. A wave of silence swept through the room. The storm had arrived.
"How many?" Lucas asked.
"Two thousand, at least. Beast riders. Siege units. They've set up camp ten miles from our southern border. Their banners… it's the chained lion. Lord Agram himself leads them."
Lucas's expression hardened. The Warhound of Stonewatch had come, and with him, the full wrath of Prince Varion.
He turned to his commanders. "Reynard, you're in charge of the city's defenses while I meet them. Kaela, Elira—you're with me."
Reynard saluted. "Yes, my lord. I'll have the ballistas and flame towers ready."
Lucas nodded. "Don't engage until my signal. We might buy ourselves some time."
