A few days passed in a controlled rush of preparation, every hour filled with movement, adjustments, and final confirmations. By the time everything was ready, the encampment no longer felt like a temporary camp of allied forces, but like the edge of a blade drawn tight and waiting for release.
Armies stood in formation across the fields beyond Valerion's temporary command grounds. Blackmare's five thousand had fully integrated into the structure of the allied forces, their discipline evident in the way they moved and assembled without confusion or disorder. Valerion's remaining three thousand stood alongside them, smaller in number but hardened by continuous conflict.
At the center of it all, the leadership gathered one final time.
