"Get lost! I'll kill anyone who gets in my way!"

At Chetvine's southern gate, a fearsome old man charged in nonstop from the Sylvan Peaks, carrying towering rage straight toward the city. His eyes were wide, blazing with fury.

Before Orson stood 500 figures. They were arrayed in a square formation, their blades drawn in unison, every gaze resolute and cold.

The one leading them was Clarence Burnham. A lieutenant general of the military, a martial god in strength. He was Philip's right-hand ma