The blood-drenched earth of Point Bow still trembled under the thunder of war. Though the mighty clash between Ursula and Mariposa had left a brutal mark, the battle across the field raged on. Royal banners flapped with tattered pride as the royal army fought tooth and nail to repel the relentless advance of the Blazzarene forces.
Steel clanged on steel, arrows blackened the sky, and fire from broken siege weapons painted the air in smoke and ash. Screams echoed—a grim symphony of pain and valor. Amidst the madness, Captain Christian held the line.
Clad in battered plate, Christian fought without gifts, without divine blood—just a shield on his left arm and a longsword in his right. Yet none could deny his presence. His movements were precise, his blade an extension of his will. Parrying, bashing, slashing—his shield absorbed every blow aimed at his comrades, his sword punished every exposed flank.
