"Boom—rumble—rumble!"
In the Southern Branch Mountain Range at the southern edge of the South Continent, the firmament was smothered by clouds of inky, water-laden vapor, so heavy that even sunlight could not pierce them and could only flounder and writhe within, casting an even more suffocating pall over the already taut confrontation between the two armies.
The Air was stained with the bitter salt of the Ocean and the dense moisture of impending rain, clogging in the chest of every soldier. Men from both sides stared blankly upward, eyes fixed on the thunder brewing in the heights.
A howling gale blew from the south, racing over branches along the mountain ridges and tearing past the many tents of the Human Alliance below.
Inside the main command tent of the Alliance, Barbatos stood at the Gate. The furious, violent wind strangely unraveled bit by bit at his side, softening into a gentle breeze that only lifted a few strands of his hair.
