The castle halls were quiet, save for the faint hum of activity from the lower levels. Kade sat in the war chamber, his hands steepled before him as he stared at the reports scattered across the table. The commanders were still in the field, dismantling the Pact's footholds one by one. Yet, despite the victories, an unshakable sense of foreboding clung to him like a shadow.
"Every time we win, it feels like they've already planned their next move,"
he thought, his brow furrowing.
"Are we truly gaining ground, or just playing into their hands?"
The sound of footsteps broke his concentration. Vask entered the chamber, his crimson eyes gleaming in the dim light. He carried a rolled scroll, its seal bearing the unmistakable sigil of the Pact — a twisted black flame.
'My lord,'
Vask said, placing the scroll on the table.
'This was found near the eastern outpost. It appears to be a message left deliberately for us.'
