The march to the Lich Lord's fortress was entirely uncontested.
The Scourgelands were empty. The thick, necrotic fog that usually concealed the undead swarms had burned away completely with the death of the Bone Dragon.
The black ash underfoot crunched loudly under the weight of the Grand Army.
Lucifer halted his forces at the base of the jagged peak.
The fortress of Vorthos rose above them. It was a huge, sprawling structure made from fused black glass and rusted iron plates.
Tall towers shaped like jagged claws stabbed into the purple sky. The massive iron gate at the entrance stood wide open.
"It's a trap," Elara said flatly. The Fallen Valkyrie sat on her Nightmare Steed, her silver spear humming with celestial light.
"He knows we are here. Leaving the gates open is an invitation to be slaughtered in a choke point."
Lucifer agreed. His eyes scanned the dark towers.
