Deep within the freezing, pitch-black expanse of the southern desert, the atmosphere inside the massive iron command chariot had completely deteriorated into absolute, suffocating terror.
Prince Liam paced frantically back and forth across the iron floor grates. The dark magic sustaining his reanimated corpse was fluctuating violently, causing his grey skin to pull tightly over his cheekbones. He had just received the horrifying confirmation that his front vanguard had been instantly pulverized by the Emerald artillery, and his foolish brother had been captured alive.
"Reconnect the secondary phalanxes immediately!" Liam roared, his glowing purple eyes fixing entirely upon the cowering figure of Zed. "If the vanguard is destroyed, we simply march the rest of the army straight over their shattered plating! Move them forward!"
