Evening descended upon the demon camp like a slow, suffocating veil.
The grey sky darkened further, clouds hanging low and heavy, as if the land itself sensed the danger gathering beneath it.
Lanterns were lit one by one, their orange glow spreading across the camp and casting long, shadows.
At the center of the camp, the main command tent stood tall and unmoving.
Inside, the atmosphere was tense.
The spacious tent was illuminated by floating mana lamps, their dim light reflecting off armor, horns, and weapons.
A large wooden table occupied the center, its surface covered with maps, handwritten notes, and glowing crystals that marked positions across the island.
Several demon leaders had gathered.
Captains, high-ranking officers.
Among them stood Zerath Vornak, his arms crossed, his expression calm but his eyes sharp. Traces of earlier irritation still lingered beneath his composed exterior.
At the head of the table sat Vaelrix.
