Meylin's eyes were cold, filled with a sharp, unwavering killing intent as she gazed up at the colossal stronghold that loomed at the heart of the Bloodmar Continent. It was an impenetrable fortress built atop a mountain so massive it stretched across tens of thousands of kilometers, its peaks clawing into the heavens like the talons of some ancient god.
Under her leadership, the Scarlet Crusade had seized control of the entire periphery of the continent. Yet none of their victories would matter if they failed in the most crucial task: planting the Dark Root in the very heart of Bloodmar. Without that, the unification of the Crimson World would remain incomplete.
The sharp, flapping sound of turbulent winds echoed through the high-altitude battlefield. Meylin turned just in time to see a titanic dragon descend beside her.
