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The battle raged across the open valley below the Iron Compact’s forward keep - smoke curling black into the sky, steel ringing against steel, the roar of shifting wolves mixing with the sharp crack of ward magic. Aria led the center line, her blade cutting through shield and spear alike, her movements fast and brutal, honed by two lifetimes of combat. They had pushed the enemy back three furlongs already; the Compact’s elite guard was breaking, their formations fraying, their confidence cracking under the weight of the Zodiac’s coordinated strike.

Aria ducked under a war-axe, spun, and drove her fist into the soldier’s chest, sending him stumbling back gasping....