The Grand Convergence Hall of Alika City smelled of smoke, blood, and burning stone. It had been three days since Felunka died.
The golden sun mosaics that once decorated the imperial dais lay broken beneath the boots of rebel soldiers. Black banners bearing Senraki's serpent symbol hung from the walls, covering the old imperial flags.
Senraki stood before the sovereign throne, reading the reports brought by his messengers. His broadsword rested against his side, its blade stained with dried blood.
A masked lieutenant knelt before him.
"General, we've lost contact with the western garrisons. Tsanka's last remnants' outer defenses are burning, and King Vanka's army has entered the northern pass."
Senraki barely looked up.
"Good." He wiped the remaining blood from his sword.
"Kill the council scribes who are still alive. Burn every copy of the council census. I don't want any records left behind."
The lieutenant bowed his head.
"And when Lanka arrives?" he asked.
