The following morning, Damien stood in what had been Valdara's grand war room, now converted into a makeshift command center reeking of sweat, blood, and desperation.
Reports were flooding in from Thornhaven and Silvermill. Seria's voice came through one of the communication crystals, sounding exhausted but triumphant.
"Thornhaven is secure. Demon forces broke around dawn – same pattern you described. Their coordination just... collapsed. We pushed them back, but Damien, the casualties – " Her voice caught. "We lost nearly three hundred soldiers. The civilian count is worse. The fires spread through the refugee quarter before we could contain them."
"How many civilians?" Damien asked, though he already knew the answer would be bad.
"Over a thousand. Maybe more. Bodies are still being pulled from collapsed buildings."
Elara's report from Silvermill was similar. Fewer military casualties but devastating civilian losses from the fire attacks the demons had used systematically.
