It was time.
The conquest had been planned, the soldiers trained, and now the long-awaited expansion was finally about to begin.
Not out of ambition, but necessity. For survival. For power. For peace—at least the kind of peace they could forge through strength.
And under Lord Victor's rule, with Leo as their commander, they would push forward into the unknown.
The massive gates of the Aether camp creaked open, revealing a black sea of soldiers lined up in perfect formation.
Nearly 2,000 strong, they stood like a wall of steel and shadow. Each one was clad in a black uniform, a gleaming silver crest of Aether stamped proudly on their chest.
The early morning light glinted off their weapons and armor. The sight was something that would inspire awe among allies and strike fear into anyone foolish enough to stand against them.
At the front of the formation stood the commanding officers—generals and high-ranking officers who had proven themselves time and again.
