The three of them froze at the shout.
The voice came from ahead, from a gap in the massive wall where two thick metal gates met. Figures in black were moving toward them, boots pounding in a steady rhythm on packed dirt.
"Halt! Identify yourselves!" the voice repeated, sharper now.
Lyris shifted her footing instinctively. Mira straightened, staff angled diagonally across her body. Ragna let her hand fall to the hilt of her greatsword, fingers curling around the leather grip.
The men in black closed the distance fast.
They weren't knights. No cloaks, no heraldry, no shields. Their armor hugged tight to their bodies, made of strange plates and fabric. Dark helmets, dark vests, dark gloves. Strange box-like things strapped to their chests and belts. Long, narrow weapons in their hands that didn't look like any crossbow Lyris had ever seen.
There were six of them. Four with those weapons shouldered, two out front with hands free.
The lead man raised a gloved palm.
