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Dawn had passed, and the sun was fully above the horizon.
However, despite it being broad daylight, neither of the armies moved, and the absolute silence accentuated the tense, foreboding atmosphere.
It was the calm before the storm, and everybody could feel that it would be a terrible storm.
When the sun rose to its highest point, the imperial army finally moved.
“Start your prayers.”
The voice came from a high point, somewhere in the middle of the troops. It came from the mud wall the imperial army had built upon arrival, but strangely enough, this structure wasn’t meant to function as a siege weapon.
It looked like the spire that the wizards had built, similar to a lighthouse meant to guide fishermen. Of course, it had been built overnight, so it wasn’t very tall, but it was still tall enough to offer a good view of the chaos that would soon be unleashed on the battlefield.
The imperial army called their mud tower the Holy Spire, and the reason for that name was simple: the presence of so many priests made even the most trivial tower seem holy.
The Holy Spire...
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