Dawn broke through the clouds, spilling the first rays of golden light over the ravaged riverbank.
Alex walked alone along the road, broken ice and mud mingling beneath his feet.
A brand-new suit of Living Graft Armor clung to his skin, while Winter's Embrace billowed over it in the cold wind, its hem snapping like a battle flag.
He carried a blood-soaked burlap bundle in his left hand. His right hung loosely at his side, his fingertips just two inches from the battleaxe handle at his waist.
Ahead, the Imperial camp crouched like a startled beast, bristling with chevaux de frise and watchtowers.
"Halt!"
Two royal Knights riding Griffins swooped down from above, their slipstream whipping up loose snow from the ground. The Griffins screeched, their claws sweeping barely above Alex's helmet.
Alex did not stop.
"One more step and you die!" A Knight pulled his mount upward, circled once, then hovered in midair with his lance aimed between Alex's brows.
Alex raised his head.
He wasted no words.
Boom!
Pale golden flames of battle aura erupted from his body. The frozen ground beneath his feet shattered instantly, cracks spreading outward like a spiderweb.
The hovering Griffin suddenly let out a plaintive cry. As though confronted by its natural predator, it beat its wings wildly and backed away in terror, ignoring its rider's attempts to soothe it.
The oppressive presence of a Fifth-Rank Knight.
It was a murderous aura forged by crawling through mountains of corpses and seas of blood, steeped in slaughter.
Alex lowered his gaze and continued forward.
The spears in the gate guards' hands trembled. As they watched this man drive back the Griffin Knights single-handedly, none dared step forward to stop him.
Outside the command tent, Count Marius sat casually on a hardwood crate, holding a