Lucifer stood in the snow-covered courtyard of the Citadel of Obsidian. The bruised-purple portal to the Umbra was gone, severed by his own hand.
The crisp, freezing mountain air filled his lungs.
He looked at the massive army packing his fortress. Thirteen million mortal soldiers, completely unharmed and heavily buffed, were organizing into neat battalions.
The expedition was a flawless success.
Then, a sharp, echoing blast of a Star-Kissed Elven war horn rang from the highest watchtower.
High Ranger Celeste spurred her dire wolf across the cracked stone pavement. The beast's paws skidded on the frost as she halted abruptly in front of Lucifer.
"Grand Marshal!" Celeste reported, her scarred face tight with sudden urgency. "The perimeter is breached. The Royal Armada has arrived."
Lucifer's void-swirling eyes narrowed. "The Cryo-Pylons?"
"The towers are firing, but the King did not send a standard infantry charge," Celeste explained rapidly.
