The gears of war were turning.
In the northern reaches of the Eternal City, the Dutchman and its wraith army were engaged in a fierce battle against the corrupted immortals, slowly pushing their way toward the Palace.
In the southernmost part of the city, the Shadow Legion had conquered a foothold and was now preparing to advance.
Far in the east, the colossal Clocktower oversaw the silent streets; in the west, the Lighthouse shone with brilliant silver light.
Sunny felt a sense of urgency as he commanded his shades to march north.
'This is not at all like the Burned Forest…'
His campaign to conquer the outskirts of the Burned Forest had been a slow affair. Fierce skirmishes had been followed by swift retreats and prolonged periods of relative peace — Sunny would dismiss the remaining shades and evade the pursuing Black Millipedes alone, waiting for his growing legion to restore itself and wage another battle.
It had been like a dreadful game of cat and mouse.
