The night slowly began to fade.
Far beyond the walls of Silver Shield City, the horizon turned pale beneath the first traces of dawn, dark skies giving way to a cold gray light. The battlefield below remained ruined and silent, vast stretches of shattered earth still filled with water from Sofia's attack. Mist drifted slowly across the broken plains while fragments of destroyed golems lay buried beneath mud and stone.
No new enemy movement had appeared through the night.
That silence alone felt unnatural.
Razeal stood atop the wall with the others, his gaze fixed outward, unmoving since the battle ended. The wind moved lightly through his silver hair while the city behind them slowly awakened not to peace, but to preparation. Bells rang in the distance. Soldiers shifted positions. Civilians were already being evacuated deeper into the inner districts.
The kingdom had understood.
War was truly coming now.
