A few moments ago, inside the watchtower.
Carl Luxei lounged atop the elevated command chair like a lion surveying his territory, one leg crossed lazily over the other. His gaze, however, was sharp—locked on the large, flickering blue formation in front of him. Mysterious symbols danced and pulsed within the translucent screen, projecting a broad view of the open plains where the Valthorn army steadily advanced.
Their banners waved defiantly in the wind, a splash of crimson and gold against the green backdrop. Rows of soldiers marched with purpose. But to Carl, the entire display felt laughable.
Around him, the interior of the watchtower buzzed with subdued energy. Soldiers of the Blue Hammer Kingdom moved with mechanical precision, each man and woman trained specifically for artillery warfare. The scent of burnt mana and polished steel clung to the air, mingling with the faint hum of arcane energy pulsing from the spell-guided machinery.
