The mountains had collapsed, creating a vast valley. The green slopes had turned into a brown desert of crushed rock… and now, the desert turned into a red river.
The blood-red cloaks of the imperial soldiers were like a crimson tide as they marched forward, sunlight glistening on the tips of their spears.
Far above the sea of marching warriors, a hawk was gliding on the gentle winds. It opened its beak and let out a cry, then moved its wings to fly away. It was just in time — a moment later, a golden arrow flashed past it, tearing the sky apart.
The hawk folded its wings and plummeted down, then spread them again to glide and escape the cold gaze of the unseen archer.
