( The Mercenary camp )
In the grand tent at the heart of the Mercenary camp, the elite members of Avan's council gathered.
Tension hung heavy in the air, the usual prideful chatter and reports were replaced by a stinging silence.
At the end of the room, atop a raised platform, sat Avan, the Mercenary King, the tier8 monarch, a great god amongst gods.
His eyes, dark as the night, scanned over the written report in his hand, the parchment visibly trembling.
"The Coalition forces led by Gurdan... obliterated?" Avan's voice echoed in the grand hall, a wave of dread washing over the council. "And the orbs... all six orbs destroyed?" His voice held no hint of disbelief, rather a cold acknowledgement of reality.
"Indeed, my lord," confirmed his councillor, a veteran warrior who had seen countless wars and skirmishes, but the weight of this particular loss was evident on his face.
