The battlefield was chaos incarnate.
Smoke curled across the scorched earth like the tendrils of a slumbering beast. Cries of war rose and fell like the tide, echoing from the reinforced walls of Greystone. Arrows blazed through the sky, trailing streaks of red, and magical detonations left the landscape cratered and soaked in blood.
The enemy had come with fury. The generals of Stonewatch, though wounded, now pushed harder than ever. Despite Lucas's brilliant trap work in Phase One and the ambush-heavy guerrilla tactics of Phase Two, the tide had not broken.
Yet.
Lucas stood atop the central watchtower, the flames of the ongoing battle flickering in his silver eyes. His crimson-lined cloak snapped behind him in the smoky wind. Beside him, the massive battle map flickered with rune-marked figures—each piece representing one of his forces or the generals of the enemy.
