~An Hour Earlier~
Lord Raegon's army marched forward, their disciplined steps sending vibrations through the ground as they moved like an unstoppable force.
The sheer size of the approaching army was enough to make lesser men waver, but the warriors of Westmont stood firm just outside the gates of their town, watching, waiting.
The town's forces numbered fewer than five hundred, a fraction of Lord Raegon's army, but they did not stand in fear. Their weapons were sharpened, their minds ready for battle. They had no illusions about what was coming.
Raegon wasn't the kind of ruler who simply took land. He took lives and they were all aware of it. That was why he was feared by others.
Everyone who surrendered to him was either killed or enslaved.
Westmont would be no different.
That was why there was no question.
They would fight.
A sudden movement in the distance caught their attention.
A lone rider, draped in silver-plated armor, galloped toward them at full speed.
