Chapter 452 - The Cracks Beneath The Walls (1)

The first gray light seeped over Lisban's battered ramparts, spilling mist across the wet grass and winding through the torn banners above the walls. Each thread of those half-tattered standards fluttered in the chill dawn breeze, ghostly reminders of the city's pride now broken. Somewhere in the distance, a trumpet gave a tired cry—long notes that trembled with exhaustion, yet held the stubborn insistence of soldiers who refused to break. Lyan stood at the center of the ruined courtyard, his cloak soaked through with silver mist, the braided edging darkening under the weight of water. His hands were clasped neatly behind his back, fingers laced, betraying none of the turmoil in his chest.