Uriah hovered on a silver spear in the sky above the Tribe. It was midday, the most unbearably hot time in the desert, but also its brightest, granting the best visibility.
Still, even with so much light and a high position, Uriah could see only sand on the horizon. That would typically be normal in a place called Great Quiet Desert, except that it didn't just lie on the ground now.
Sandstorms were also common in the Aetacia region, but that massive cloud wasn't one of them. Experience told Uriah the awaited army was coming, and it was even bigger than what Liam had scouted, which was to be expected.
When mixing cultivators and enslaved magical beasts, troops often had to move separately, especially when the latter weren't meant as mounts or carriages.
Needless to say, Uriah's face was as solemn as they came, his big, crossed arms deepening that vibe, which remained intense even when someone joined him in the sky.
