The gates of the capital opened with a low groan of enchanted stone and steel, and the convoy rolled forward into the heart of Lechia. The first sight that met their eyes was not chaos, not the vibrant hum of a people spilling freely into the streets, but rather an almost chilling order. The cobbled roads stretched in perfect symmetry, wide enough for three carriages to pass side by side without trouble. Every stone looked polished, as though scrubbed daily. The air carried the faint tang of incense, fresh oil from lamps, and discipline itself, woven into the breath of the city.