Previous chapter:
Chapter 49: Unravel
Next chapter:
Chapter 51: The Rage of the Sea
PREVIEW
... , their black and rustlight sigils catching the summer wind.
For the first time in living memory, those banners did not hang in defeat or mourning but in promise. A promise of reckoning.
The muster had been called at dawn. By noon, the streets were filled with soldiers.
Rows of infantry in half-plate, magitech rifles at the shoulder, bayonets fixed, stood with drilled precision.
Cavalry trotted at their flanks, sabers glinting, revolvers holstered at their hips. < ...
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE




























