The sun was just beginning to bleed over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of violet and orange, when the walls of the former Slaver Fortress came into view.
But it didn't look like a prison anymore.
Even from a distance, Damien could see the changes. The jagged, broken battlements had been repaired with smooth grey stone.
The watchtowers were manned not by thugs, but by disciplined Demi-Human guards wearing uniforms embroidered with a golden coin.
Smoke rose from the chimneys of new workshops built in the courtyard. The place wasn't just a fortress; it was a hive.
VROOOOM.
The Fenrir roared down the final stretch of the road, its matte-black chassis eating up the light.
On the walls, a Wolf-kin guard's ears perked up. He leveled his spear, squinting at the approaching mechanical beast.
"Monster!" the guard shouted, ringing the alarm bell. "A black iron beast is charging the gate! Speed… impossible to track!"
"Hold fire!" a sharp voice barked from the command tower.
