The council chamber was colder than usual.

It had been three long weeks of planning, negotiations, drills, and sleepless nights. Now, on the eve of the silver moon, silence filled the room.

Arian stood at the head of the long stone table, his arms crossed against his broad chest.

His eyes scanned the familiar faces he had spent the last days training with. The generals, advisors, and trusted warriors, each cloaked in grim determination.

King Rue walked in, gracing them with his presence for the final briefing. He was dressed differently. Like one of the men. Covered in sweat and rage.

“They’ll arrive at first light tomorrow,” General Kael of...