Zigalt's fall

The allied forces stood before the walls of Zigalt, expecting a great resistance. Instead, all they saw were a handful of trembling guards and a few nobles shivering atop the battlements. The scene was baffling, almost disappointing.

One of the commanders from Crecork let out a frustrated sigh. "This... is what we're fighting?"

General Varrick nodded grimly. "They're barely holding their weapons. It's like there's no leadership left."

Another commander scoffed. "Should we even waste time sending a formal message? This city is already done for."

Haldrek shook his head. "No. We send the message. Civilians shouldn't suffer if we can avoid it."

A messenger was dispatched, but no reply came. The silence from within the city was unsettling. It was as if no one was in charge.

Varrick rubbed his temples. "Damn it, this is pathetic. We wanted justice for Thimoria, not some cowardly surrender."