Chapter 530

The sun did not rise gently over the plains. It clawed its way through the smoke-filled skies, casting a sickly amber glow over the blood-soaked land. Dawn brought no comfort, only the revelation of more carnage...and the Threian army, thirty-thousand strong, continued its march into orc territory.

The Garthum River behind them ran black with soot and blood. The banks were littered with the shattered remnants of orcish resistance. The Thunder Makers, those massive siege guns hauled by oxen and sweat, had not cooled since the assault on the last stronghold. Engineers tended to their glowing barrels with oil and cloth, preparing them for the next engagement. The infantry, hardened by three weeks of constant battle, moved in silence.