The Northern Sea did not roar without reason.
For three days and three nights, the waters had churned with unnatural violence. Waves rose higher than castle walls and then collapsed into black depths that seemed to swallow light itself. Thunder rolled across the horizon even when the sky remained clear. Mana saturated the air so heavily that even ordinary soldiers felt pressure in their lungs.
This was not a storm.
This was anticipation.
On the fourth morning, the horizon was lined with ships.
War fleets from every major kingdom had gathered at a calculated distance from one another. Massive steel-hulled vessels from the Iron Duchy cut through the waves like blades. Their hulls were reinforced with rune-etched plating, and long banners bearing the symbol of crossed swords snapped in the wind. Discipline radiated from their decks. Warriors stood in silent formation, armor polished, eyes forward.
