Kharzan advanced at the center of his military column, surrounded by the rhythmic thunder of 10,000 soldiers marching toward their destiny.
The mass of armed bodies extending both ahead and behind his position provided a sensation of security that had been absent during the last months.
'Finally,' he thought while observing the organized ranks. 'Finally I have the power to decide the course of this war.'
But frustration continued gnawing at the edges of his confidence like a persistent wound.
"General Valdris!" he called to the commander advancing at his side. "Any new reports about the situation at the destroyed section of the wall?"
"Negative, my Lord," Valdris responded, his voice carrying the weight of unwelcome news. "The wall has been rebuilt, but the intruders continue without being stopped. Patrols report signs of continuous advance toward your castle in our rear guard, but they haven't managed to establish direct contact."
Kharzan's knuckles whitened.
