Early morning swept across the sea with a solemn stillness. The sun had yet to cast its full glow into the deep, and within the layered defenses of the Sea Ancestral Temple, the world seemed to hold its breath.
Kent awoke from a deep, dreamless sleep. His body, though rested, carried the weight of the day ahead. His spirit, however, felt calm—like the eye of a storm that knew it must move again.
The sounds outside were muted yet powerful—troops rustling into position, the low growls of beast-mounts, and the whisper of divine spells being woven across protective wards. The Nine-Heaven Formation stood ready, pulsing in slow, deliberate rhythm. Every heartbeat of the formation echoed in Kent's chest.
As he stood and stretched, a soft knock tapped against his door. A servant slid it open and bowed deeply. "Princess Nyara has sent you a battle gift."
