The battlefield was eerily quiet in the moments following Lord Merith's death. The once mighty tyrant lay motionless on the ground, his lifeblood seeping into the earth beneath him. For a brief, fragile moment, it seemed as though time itself had paused, as if the world was holding its breath, uncertain of what would come next.
But that silence was soon broken.
From within the fortress of Edenhide, a new sound emerged—the triumphant blare of a trumpet, not in the tune of Edenhide, but in the bold and defiant notes of Purewood. Gareth, having successfully infiltrated the fortress with his knights, had swiftly taken control. The remnants of Edenhide's forces, disoriented and leaderless after Merith's demise, were no match for the swift and decisive strike from within. The fortress, once a symbol of Edenhide's unyielding power, now belonged to Purewood.
