On the ramparts of the third wall, a single figure stood prominently visible. Grand Commander armor, but more elaborate than standard issue—gold trim on black steel, a massive two-handed blade strapped to his back, and even at this distance, an aura of concentrated power that made the air shimmer.
"Oh good," Lilith muttered. "They're issuing a formal challenge."
"Is that normal?"
"For Grand Commanders facing someone they recognize as a significant threat? Yes. It's a psychological tactic—offer single combat, and if you decline, you look cowardly. If you accept, they get to kill you in front of your army and shatter morale."
Liam studied the Grand Commander. The man's stance was confident but not arrogant. Professional. Someone who'd killed enough demons to know exactly how dangerous they could be, but also confident enough in his own abilities to issue public challenges.
"I'm accepting," Liam said.
