William moved swiftly toward the northern watchtower, where he knew Louis would be stationed. The pale light of the moon bathed the towering Mount Lumina in an ethereal glow, casting long shadows across the landscape.
As William reached the edge of the watchtower, his sharp eyes caught sight of movement—a dark, ominous mass creeping down the mountainside like a living shadow.
The Altanian army was descending upon Elodia.
A sense of dread tightened William's chest. He wondered why the city's defenses appeared so sparse. It was unusual not to encounter more guards as he approached the tower, where the highest concentration of soldiers should have been stationed. Something felt wrong, deeply wrong, as if some invisible, malevolent force was weaving its influence through the city, keeping its defenders at bay.
