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The fighting had ended hours ago.
But the land still felt... uneasy. As if it hadn't forgotten what happened here.
Thousands of soldiers row after row stood across the open plain.
Their dark uniforms blended together and looked like a huge shadow spreading across the floor. No one talked. No one shifted in place. The entire army stood still.
Every single one of them was looking at the man standing in front.
He stood a few steps ahead of the formation.
On the long coat hanging from his shoulders. Three silver emblems rested there.
His name was Cassian Vale.
In war zones and military camps, that name had become something people whispered about.
To enemies, he was called the Grim Sovereign.
To the soldiers who served under him, he was something else entirely-the man who always walked into battle first and somehow walked out alive.
Stories about him had spread everywhere. Some said he had crushed entire rebel armies with barely any support. Others claimed he had ended wars that had dragged on for years.
People argued about it all the time.
Some said fate protected him.
Others said fate was slowly destroying him.
Right now though, standing there, Cassian didn't look like a legend.
He just looked... worn out.
Next to him stood another man. Much older, maybe by twenty years or so. His hair had already gone gray.
He was, Marshal Aldric Thorn.
The Supreme Commander of the Eastern War Council. He was the one who had trained Cassian back when he was still a reckless recruit who picked fights with everyone.
Aldric watched him quietly for a while before speaking.
"So it's really happening," he finally said.
"You're leaving."
Cassian was staring at something in his hand.
A photograph.
The corners were bent, and the surface had faded.
Two people stood in the picture.
One of them was Cassian. He looked younger. Smiling too, which was strange to see now.
The other person was a woman.
She has the kind of beauty that drove attention.
For a moment, Cassian's expression changed.
Just slightly.
"I did what I came here to do," he said after a while.
"The Nine Tyrants are dead. Their armies are broken. The frontier won't see another war for a long time."
Aldric let out a slow breath.
"You almost died doing it," he said.
His eyes moved to the thin scars running along Cassian's neck.
"That last fight... even the council believed you were finished."
Cassian shrugged a little.
"But I wasn't."
There was silence between them.
Eventually Aldric spoke again.
"You've done enough for this country. More than enough. No one would blame you for wanting something normal now."
Cassian put the photograph back into his coat.
A normal life? The words sounded strange to him.
"I made a promise," he said.
Aldric already knew who he meant.
The old marshal cleared his throat.
"I assigned someone to travel with you when you head back to the capital."
Cassian frowned slightly.
"That's not necessary."
"Her name is Lyra Quin," Aldric continued. "She'll be your administrative officer."
Cassian slowly looked at him.
"You mean a spy."
"Well... it depends on how you want to see it."
Cassian smiled.
"You were never good at lying."
Aldric chuckled.
"Maybe not. But the council is nervous. You're still the most dangerous commander this country has. If you vanish quietly, people will panic."
"I'd rather know you're still alive somewhere."
Cassian didn't answer.
For a moment, both of them thinking about the same years of war they had survived.
Then Aldric spoke again.
"If you're really leaving... then at least let your soldiers say goodbye properly."
Cassian sighed.
"Aldric-"
But the marshal had already stepped forward.
"ALL UNITS!"
Thousands of soldiers slammed their boots gainst the ground at the same time.
Aldric shouted,"PAY RESPECT TO THE LORD COMMANDER OF THE OBSIDIAN LEGION!"
The soldiers roared. "GLORY TO COMMANDER CASSIAN VALE!"
"GLORY TO THE OBSIDIAN LEGION!"
Again.
"GLORY TO COMMANDER CASSIAN VALE!"
Cassian just stood there while the voices of thousands of soldiers crashed over him like a wave.
The sun was going down slowly.
His battalion stood in rows behind him.
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