[The Next Morning — Before Departure]
Morning sunlight slowly spread across the western hills of Zahryssar.
The imperial convoy stood prepared beneath endless desert winds while blue-and-gold banners fluttered across the massive encampment.
Knights mounted horses; servants secured supplies. Mage circles glowed softly beneath the sands, and at the very center, the black imperial carriage awaited silently.
Meanwhile, Levin slowly approached the carriage, silver-blue robes drifting softly in the wind. One hand resting unconsciously near his abdomen. The exhaustion beneath his eyes was hidden carefully behind imperial calmness.
Beside the carriage, Raevahn immediately lowered himself respectfully. "Malika."
Levin nodded faintly, then with Raevahn's assistance, he stepped into the imperial carriage quietly. The curtains closed afterward.
And the convoy prepared to move. Then suddenly, footsteps echoed across the sands, heavy and imperial.
