After spending about a month at the western shipyards of the liberated second continent, and somewhat getting familiar with using magic, the vanguard decided it was finally time to march to the third continent.
The transition from the lush coastline of the Second Continent to the scorching border of the Third Continent felt like walking directly into a furnace. The massive column of five hundred thousand soldiers and one hundred thousand kingdom knights marched in an expansive line, their feet kicking up fine golden dust that coated their polished armor.
At the entrance to the great dunes, two figures draped in sun-bleached linen stood waiting beside a sandstone path.
Iron-Scale led the march, his eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of an ambush. The wind from his core swirled around his boots, lifting the sand into tiny funnels that cleared his path.
