Chapter 151: An explanation of the prophecy (4101)
The moon lingered in the sky, close to setting. The magic items atop the Greymane Wall shone steadily. There was not a breath of wind, yet the tents swayed faintly, casting long, ghostlike shadows in their light. A curious rustling accompanied the footsteps passing through the vast, silent camp.
Rex walked slowly toward his tent. The military camp at the Greymane Wall was not particularly large, and the warriors who had arrived already exceeded its capacity. Many tents had therefore been pitched nearby. Rex stayed in one of those tents rather than inside the camp itself.
It was only a military camp, after all, and its accommodations were hardly comfortable. To Rex, there was little difference between staying there and sleeping in a tent, so he was not especially fussy. Over the past few years, he had spent much of his time in military camps, eating from the same communal pots as the soldiers. It was the simplest, most practical way to grow closer to them and earn their goodwill. He had seen it in novels more than once, and now that he had the opportunity, why would he not do it?
Other nobles knew this perfectly well, but they could not set aside their airs and aristocratic pride. Rex had no such reservations. He saw nothing particularly worth boasting about in his status as a prince. Back then, he had lived constantly beneath the shadow of Gilneas's future destruction. What pride could a prince of a fallen kingdom have? The saying that a fallen phoenix was worth less than a chicken existed for a reason.
Seeing his tent ahead, Rex lifted the flap and strode inside. He took off his clothes and lay down quietly, resting his clasped hands beneath his