The news of the monster raid hit Auravale like a chaos.
The frantic ringing of the alarm bells was no longer a warning; it was a death knell echoing off the stone walls of the city.
Inside the Lord's Castle, the illusion of order shattered instantly.
The barracks were a scene of panicked, sweaty chaos. Soldiers sprinted through the corridors, colliding with servants who dropped trays of food to huddle in corners, praying to gods who seemed to have abandoned them.
The air was thick with the scent of fear—sharp, acrid, and overwhelming—mixed with the metallic tang of unpolished steel and old leather.
Men scrambled to strap on armour that hadn't seen battle in years. Fingers fumbled with buckles. Helmets were jammed onto heads with trembling hands.
"Where are my greaves?!" a young recruit screamed, tearing through a chest. "I can't find my greaves!"
