Seylith, the Pale Bloom, stood at the edge of her territory and watched the army march past.
They didn't enter her lands. Demeterra's column moved through the grasslands to the west — Gorvahn's Frogmen in the van, the Human conscript regiments behind, supply wagons churning ruts in the soft earth. The Thornwyrm's passage was visible as a distant trail of crushed vegetation, a scar across the golden plain.
Seylith's territory was a pocket of cultivated farmland — twelve hundred humans spread across four villages, growing wheat and barley under the Growth domain's passive acceleration. Peaceful land. Productive land. The kind of territory that existed because someone larger allowed it to exist.
