Outside the towering spires of Austerra Castle, far beyond the bustle of its capital, the roads were alive with the thunder of marching armies.
From every corner of the kingdom, the noble families had answered the call. Their banners, each dyed in brilliant colors and marked with ancient crests, snapped in the wind as long columns of troops advanced across the countryside.
Knights in polished armor rode at the front on powerful steeds. Behind them followed endless ranks of archers, mages, pikemen, and shield-bearers, all bound for the same destination—Austerra Castle, their home, their fortress, and the heart of their King.
It wasn't just soldiers that came. Lords themselves led the marches, leaving their wives, children, and only sparse guards to watch over their territories. Such was the gravity of the moment: protect the King, or watch the kingdom fall.
On the wide meadow road that curved like a ribbon toward the castle, one particular column stood out.
