For three days, the Ironclaw vanguard had pushed south at a relentless pace,clad in dark plate armor, and rode in tight, disciplined lines along the narrow mountain pass.At the head of the column rode Gideon, mounted on his massive black warhorse. His dark cloak billowed behind his broad, armored shoulders, his hand never straying far from the heavy hilt of his broadsword. Beside him, riding close enough for their stirrups to brush with every stride, I sat atop my gray mare, wrapped tightly in my fur-lined mantle.To the soldiers marching behind us, I was their Sovereign Queen composed, sharp-eyed, and unyielding.To myself, I was burning alive from the inside out.With every mile we traveled south, the imperial map etched between my shoulder blades throbbed with an increasingly violent, agonizing heat. It was no longer a dull ache; it felt as though a molten dagger was being dragged repeatedly across my flesh. Every time the distant ley-lines beneath the Southern Waste surged, a sic
Last Updated : 2026-09-22 Read more