The capital did not sleep that night.
Torches burned along the high walls of the Blood Council fortress, casting long shadows across the stone courtyards. Armored soldiers moved through the corridors with hurried steps, carrying orders from one commander to another.
Something had changed.
Everyone could feel it.
Inside the inner war chamber, Morcant stood at the head of a long table carved from black stone.
Several elders surrounded the table while maps of the northern territories lay open before them.
One of the generals spoke first.
"Our scouts confirmed it this morning. Ravenspire has begun preparing defenses."
Morcant did not look surprised.
"They were always going to."
Another elder leaned forward.
"Then we move immediately."
Morcant slowly shook his head.
"No."
The elder frowned.
"No?"
Morcant placed a finger on the map.
"We do not rush into a battlefield without understanding what waits for us."
His finger rested over one name.
Ravenspire.
