"Our enemies are massing on the horizon. The Beast Tide was merely a probe—a way to test our defenses and drain our stamina."
Prince Theodore sheathed his sword.
CLACK.
The sound was sharp, decisive. He turned to a Royal Guard, taking a tattered, blood-soaked war banner from the soldier's grip.
He hoisted the heavy standard high. The colorful fabric, heavy with gore, flapped sluggishly in the morning breeze.
"The Civil War hasn't even begun in earnest!" Theodore roared, his voice projecting across the ramparts.
"The smoke has yet to clear, and this devastation before us is only the opening move. Our enemies are watching from the shadows, hoping we will collapse right here on these walls. But they are destined for disappointment because we are invincible!"
His voice boomed over the Northern Bastion of Menethis. This fortress was his creation, his territory, the foundation of his legacy. He would not allow a defeat here.
