The battlefield at Black Hollow was silent in the dawn's light. Damien stood amidst the wreckage, his steel-gray eyes scanning the horizon. His men were tired but victorious, their resolve bolstered by the hard-won triumph. Still, Damien knew this was only a skirmish compared to the battles that lay ahead. Calder's foreign backers had been dealt a blow, but they would regroup—and next time, they would be more prepared.
Amara approached, her sharp blue eyes glinting with faint amusement despite the grime smudging her face. "You'd think they'd learn not to underestimate us," she said. "It's almost insulting."
Damien allowed himself a small smirk. "They'll learn soon enough. The question is whether they'll survive the lesson."