Her words acted like a salve, soothing the raw nerves of the gathered warriors. The tension in the air lessened slightly, though the King of Swords still scowled, his impatience barely held in check.
The gathering armies were a sight to behold. The Kingdom of Swords had brought a thousand of their strongest warriors, each clad in gleaming silver armor that reflected the sun's harsh rays.
Their discipline was evident in the way they stood—silent, unmoving, and ready to charge at a moment's notice.
Not to be outdone, Ciriaus had mustered five hundred of their most powerful mages, led by their king himself. The air around them buzzed with latent energy, faint arcs of magic sparking between their staves and hands.
Standing beside the king was Arin, a small but fiercely determined figure whose presence alone inspired confidence in their ranks.
