The roads leading toward Carine Forest had disappeared beneath iron and steel.
Crimson.
Gold.
White.
For miles upon miles, armored formations stretched across the land like rivers of metal cutting through the earth itself.
Seventy thousand Cardinals of House Angelus.
Thirty thousand Auroras of the Holy Church.
Twenty thousand Prateras of the Royal Army.
One hundred and twenty thousand soldiers.
Not recruits.
Not levies.
War formations.
The ground trembled beneath synchronized steps, beneath rolling supply carts and the creak of artillery wheels. Field medics marched beside engineers. Blacksmiths, sappers, and armorers kept pace with the army's advance. Even the wagons behind them looked less like supply trains and more like moving settlements.
This was no hunting expedition anymore.
This was extermination.
At the front of the advance formation rode Sous within Penelope.
Crimson armor gleaming beneath the afternoon light. White Tiger rested at his side.
Beside him moved Prince Adrean within his own royal harness, heavier than Penelope, dark silver plated with gold accents. Behind him came ranks of Prateras carrying royal banners.
And alongside them—
The Arch-Prelate advanced, surrounded by Auroras.
The Church's harnesses were unlike the others. Smooth white plating. Golden scripture. Engraved mana channels glowing faintly beneath holy sigils.
They looked less like soldiers—
And more like moving cathedrals.
The Arch-Prelate gazed toward the distant tree line.
"This much force for one forest…"
Adrean's voice came through the armor in a flat reply.
"We are not here for a forest."
The Arch-Prelate said nothing.
Because everyone knew why they had gathered.
Not monsters.
Not beasts.
Something else.
Something unknown.
And unknown things frightened people far more than armies did.
Far ahead—
Carine Forest stood unmoving.
Ancient.
Dark.
Watching.
The tree line stretched across the horizon like a wall.
Normally birds circled above it.
Normally wildlife moved near its edges.
Normally—
Life existed there.
Not today.
Nothing flew.
Nothing moved.
No sound emerged from the woods.
No wind touched its branches.
It simply stood there.
Silent.
Waiting.
Several Cardinals near the front exchanged uneasy glances.
"…Feels wrong."
Another knight nodded slowly.
"The forest was never this quiet."
Further back—
Murmurs spread through the Church ranks.
"The reports cannot be true."
"Living corpses?"
"Corruption?"
"Parasites?"
A priest tightened his grip on his weapon.
"Blasphemy."
Nearby, an older Aurora knight shook his head.
"No."
His eyes remained fixed on the forest.
"Worse."
Adrean turned toward Sous.
"…Do you still believe Logos's findings?"
Sous did not answer immediately.
His gaze remained fixed ahead.
Then—
"I saw the creatures."
A pause.
"I saw fear in monsters."
Another pause.
"And I saw Logos excited."
Adrean looked toward him.
"…The second one worries me more."
Sous sighed.
"…Me too."
Far behind the army—
Black banners approached.
Smaller.
Fewer.
Only twenty thousand.
Laos forces.
Rows of black armor marched in disciplined silence.
Their tusked faceplates stared forward with inhuman stillness.
Heavy artillery rolled beside them.
Rail-supported supply carriers followed behind.
And at the helm—
A monstrous grey armored frame carried a massive axe at its side.
Inside it, Bal shifted uncomfortably.
"How long until we reach the forest?"
"About twenty minutes," one of the soldiers answered.
Bal grunted.
"Good."
A pause.
Then he looked back at the black-armored troops marching behind him.
"What do you all think?"
The soldiers glanced at one another.
Bal frowned.
"Just speak honestly. You have already been told what is waiting there."
Silence followed.
Then one of the younger soldiers spoke.
"…It feels strange."
Bal looked at him.
"How?"
The soldier hesitated.
"We fought the Red Tide."
"We fought things that wanted to kill us."
"But this…"
He looked toward the dark wall of trees.
"…this feels like we are walking toward something that should not exist."
An older veteran spoke next.
"I just hope Lord Logos does not bring anything back."
Silence.
Several men looked away.
Bal stared at him for a moment.
"…Fair."
One of the soldiers coughed awkwardly.
"Commander…"
Bal narrowed his eyes.
"What?"
The man hesitated.
"…Do you think Lord Logos has a way of making these for us?"
Several soldiers immediately looked horrified.
The younger one snapped first.
"Why would you even ask that?"
"I meant for weapons!"
"That does not help!"
Bal slowly rubbed the side of the harness frame.
"…You know what the worst part is?"
Nobody answered.
"None of us are completely sure he wouldn't try."
One soldier cleared his throat.
"I don't think we need to worry about that."
Bal looked over.
"How so?"
"Lady Lucy."
The soldier spoke carefully.
"She may not be his equal in intellect, but she has always been good at stopping his more unsavory ideas."
Another soldier nodded.
"And our lord actually listens to us."
"Even when he is annoyed."
"In general, he is pretty welcoming of opinions."
A veteran snorted.
"Twenty years ago, arguing with a noble would have been a death sentence."
"Now it is just insults."
"Truth," Bal corrected.
"It still hurts."
"You are a grown man."
"I still have feelings!"
Bal sighed.
"Moving on. Yes, you are right. If he tries something like that, Lucy will put a stop to it—but—"
He stopped.
Because every man in the frame already knew the rest.
The silence said it for him.
But if Logos truly decided to do it anyway…
Then no one was sure they would survive the result.