In the dense cover of the forest, Luke, Sir Carrick, Mayor Kingsley, and the small band of warriors from Purewood gathered for a final discussion. The trees around them swayed gently in the wind, the rustling leaves a faint whisper of the coming storm. This was it—there would be no turning back now. The plan was set, and the time had come to make their presence known.
Luke stood at the forefront, his figure commanding attention. He wore a dark blue robe, hastily crafted from the remnants of Purewood's resources. The robe was simple yet striking, a stark contrast to the humble attire he had worn before. It was fitting for a mage—a symbol of the power he was about to wield, both as a leader and as the architect of Purewood's last hope.
"We move now," Luke said, his voice steady. "The enemy needs to see us, to know we are here. There's no room for hesitation."
