Five years passed in the blink of an eye.
Time, as it always does, marched forward—quiet and relentless, carving the world anew in its wake.
And in those five years… much had changed.
The Tharz Kingdom, left weakened after its internal collapse and civil unrest, became a ripe target.
The Falmuth Kingdom, under the banner of ambition, launched a full-scale invasion—millions of soldiers marching across the borders with flags held high and chests puffed with pride.
They never made it past the Dark Valley River.
Without warning, without even the whisper of battle, they vanished.
No bodies.
No signs of struggle.
Just silence.
Panic gripped the Falmuth court. The king's warnings, once ignored by smug nobles and greedy lords, came back to haunt them.
Many perished in madness or infighting, their ambitions swallowed by the very shadows they sought to control.
