War gives no time for mourning.
Reports arrived one after another, like a river of bad news threatening to overflow. Villages consumed by fire, desecrated temples, wounded soldiers speaking of an unknown force that advanced with rage and unshakable faith. Each word, each scroll carried with it the smell of smoke and blood that spread throughout the empire, as if tragedy wanted to enter through the eyes and skin of those who read it.
The Crimson Lotus symbol appeared on shields blackened by soot, engraved on swords with violent strokes... and tattooed on the skin of the fallen, a reminder that the threat was not a rumor: it was real, imminent, and ruthless.
