The Vikings turned their heads toward the rising dust cloud. A deep rumble echoed across the field, growing louder with every heartbeat. The ground trembled beneath the hooves of a thousand of warhorses, and a heavy pressure swept over both armies like a storm.
At the front of the charge rode a man clad in black armor, Grand Duke Cassian Draemont himself. But it was the knight riding beside him who drew every eye.
He was tall and silent, cloaked in silver armor. In his hand, a long spear gleamed with killing intent.
A Pentaline soldier's voice cracked as he pointed toward the rider. "Wait… isn't that…"
Another soldier gasped, his face pale. "The Silver Knight…"
Even the Vikings hesitated. Their roars faded into uneasy murmurs as a scarred warrior lowered his axe, disbelief flashing in his eyes. "No… it can't be. The Indomitable Spearman of the North… he's here?"
The name spread like wildfire through both sides of the battlefield.
