The freezing northern gale screamed across the open water, tearing sea spray over the wooden bows of five hundred warships.
Colossal walls of black glacial ice drifted through the snow like sleeping monsters, groaning under dark ocean currents.
At the head of the armada sailed The Sovereign of Tasaka, its iron ram smashing through floating ice floes with steady thuds.
Sagiri stood at the high forecastle, his dark cloak whipping in the wind as frost bit at his skin.
Along his spine, the ancient bone-metal of Nokai hummed with quiet vibration, sending silver pulses through the dark runes on his arms.
Above him, crouched on the narrow edge of the ship's carved iron prow, Lady Kiana rested low on the balls of her boots like a hunting cat against the stormy sky.
One gloved hand rested lightly against the frosted metal for balance, her dark, form-fitting Sekana leather outlining her lithe silhouette as her dust-rose eyes surveyed the thick fog with eerie void calm.
