Branches sway. Small animals bolt from bushes. The air itself feels heavy—as if the land knows a calamity is marching straight through it.
Alix's forces cut through the forest like a living river of steel, claws, and monstrous muscle. The sound of synchronized marching, the grind of armor, and the occasional beastly roar echo for kilometers.
Alix sits atop the beastbone throne as the Minotaur carriers advance steadily. The air hums with anticipation, the scent of mana thick in the wind.
They are now halfway to the Baron's devastated territory when a sudden ripple of mana streaks through the sky.
Shff—
A blur drops from the treetops and lands gracefully beside the platform.
Erel'na straightens, four chitinous arms spread elegantly, her lower arachnid limbs barely making a sound as she bows her head.
"My Lord," she says, her voice smooth and cold, "I have returned."
Alix said. "You took your time."
Erel'na smiles faintly. "I had to… collect something."
