The East had not been ready.
One day the continent had been training for war in polished halls. The next, the Red Chalice and the vampires were inside its cities, and every drill and doctrine the great families had refined over two centuries of peace was being tested against something that had never stopped being at war.
And the vampires were stronger. Rank for rank, they were simply stronger. They healed faster. They hit harder. They had centuries of combat behind them, and they did not tire the way human beings tired.
That was why the battle at the Southern Sea Sun Palace was still going. The elites were there—not students, not border guards, but the names the East had built its legends on. And even they were struggling.
"They'll be pulling out soon," Mo Zenith said, pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose. He hadn't slept. None of the people in this room had. "We tried to crush them in one stroke. It didn't go to plan."
