The air was thick with anticipation as Raelis stood before his army, eyes fixed on the towering walls of Eldoria's capital. The moon bathed the scene in a cold, pale light, casting long shadows over the 10,000 soldiers standing at the ready. The massive city gates loomed in the distance, silent and foreboding, and Raelis, with his sharp eyes, couldn't help but notice something unsettling. The walls were repaired—completely intact, not the crumbling, neglected barriers he had expected. The torches along the ramparts flickered faintly, but there were no visible guards, no sounds of panic or preparation. It was eerie, unnaturally quiet.
Raelis snorted, dismissing the strange stillness with a wave of his hand. "Coward," he muttered under his breath. "Eldric is hiding like a rat in his hole. It's clear they've given up. The people must be waiting for me to take the throne, to save them from this pathetic king."
