Fires raged through several homes; their roofs collapsed in heaps of smoldering ash.
Villagers stumbled through the wreckage, some covered in soot and blood, others screaming for loved ones. The ground was littered with debris and injured bodies.
The once peaceful village had been transformed into a scene of utter devastation. It was as if yesterday's peace in this place was only an illusion from Yves's memory.
The fourth prince stood frozen for a moment; his mind unable to fully process the chaos before him.
Then, as if on instinct, he began rushing toward the wounded, searching for someone—anyone—who could tell him what had happened.
It didn't take long for him to find them.
The Black Order, Alterain's soldiers, were scattered throughout the village, trying to help the injured. And standing in the midst of it all was Alterain himself, giving orders to his men, his armor gleaming in the morning light despite the soot and ash that clung to it.
