The main Abyssinian army began its march to the valley, led by General Mekonnen, towering atop his majestic black steed. His gleaming armor caught the sun, and the rhythmic thunder of marching feet echoed through the highlands like a coming storm.
Through the proud capital city of Gondar they moved, row after row of disciplined soldiers. Onlookers lined the streets—traders, elders, children, and priests—all pausing to witness history unfold. It had been years since they last saw such unity in their ranks.
At the steps of the grand palace, Emperor Gelawdewos stood tall, regal in his flowing royal garb. His nobles flanked him, adorned in silk and gold, but it was the Emperor's presence that commanded attention. He raised his hand and addressed the masses:
