Chapter 534

The sun was a dying flame above the horizon, casting the ravaged battlefield in hues of copper and blood. The ground itself seemed to shudder beneath the weight of what had occurred, littered with the broken remains of men and orcs alike. Spears jutted from the earth like the bones of giants. Tattered banners snapped limply in the wind, stained with soot and gore. Carrion birds circled in the distance, their cries sharp and mocking.

General Snowe stood atop a ridge, surrounded by the corpses of a hundred comrades. His armor, once a radiant silver gleam of royal strength, now bore the grime of war...scratched, dented, soaked through with blood both foreign and his own. His blue cloak, the symbol of his command, was torn and burned along the hem, dragging behind him like a funeral shroud.

He said nothing as he surveyed the aftermath.