[Akira's POV]
The Jagged Pass had been an absolute slaughter.
The main horde of corrupted ice beasts had poured through the narrow mountain gorge exactly as predicted. The Vanguard's heavy cavalry shattered their front lines, and Tomoe's fire mages incinerated the rest. It was a brutal, exhausting battle, but we held the line.
But as the final beast fell, turning to slush under my boots, my Warlord senses had picked up a faint, sickening trail of purple mana leading away from the pass.
A splinter group. Dozens of them. They had burrowed under the glacial shelf and bypassed us completely, heading straight for the fortress.
Heading straight for Kitsune.
I didn't wait for the mages to finish sweeping the gorge. I didn't wait for the cavalry to regroup. I ripped my warhorse around and spurred it into a dead sprint through the blinding blizzard, leaving my commanders scrambling to catch up.
The ride back to the fortress was pure, unadulterated agony.
