The morning sun rising over the Northern Fortress did absolutely no favors for the courtyard.
In the pale, freezing daylight, the true scale of the trap was obvious. The outer ward looked like it had been hit by a localized meteor shower of oak logs, and the ground was completely stained with the dark, foul-smelling residue of melted ice beasts.
I sat on a wooden crate near the armory, a heavy blanket wrapped around my shoulders, sipping a cup of hot tea Yua had brought me. My hands were finally starting to stop shaking.
The heavy gates groaned as Commander Tomoe led the rest of the Vanguard back into the fortress. The elite soldiers, exhausted and battered from their fight at the Jagged Pass, rode in expecting to find their home in ruins.
Instead, they stopped their horses, staring in absolute, stunned silence at the decimated courtyard and the massive piles of rock salt.
