The heavy iron gates of Cloud-Mist City rolled open at dawn beneath a crisp late-autumn sky, releasing a royal procession so vast and resplendent that its golden banners stretched for three miles along the southern imperial highway.
At the head of the column rode Second Prince Huang Xuan atop his armored royal steed. Under the lingering veil of Alaric's mental illusion spell, the young prince smiled with hollow, self-satisfied pride as fifty thousand soldiers of the Capital Reserve Legion marched in neat, gleaming formations behind his banner.
