The Final Wrestle - Part 1

There was a change that did not need to be announced. If it was ever to be debated whether a man held a presence, that debate would have been ended then, if any manner of man had stood on that battlefield.

From the soldiers in their chariots doing war just a distance away, to the Stormfront men under General Rainheart, and the Verna army under Commandant Torn to the very other end of the plains, all those battlefields away, where the greatest Generals that both sides had to offer were doing their battling. They could feel the change and the void that came with the loss of a man of such magnitude and they were all forced to look up.

"…Who snuck ahead of us?" Karstly tutted, vague annoyance in his voice.

General Blackwell's response was that of narrowed eyes, as he tried to breach the problem of distance through sheer effort, to ascertain the truth of the matter himself.