CHAPTER 63

Aedion and Kyllian kept their panicking
troops in line as they marched, all the way to
the banks of the Florine.
There was no use running northward. Not
when the bone drums began pounding. And
grew louder with every passing minute that
Aedion ordered their legion into formation.
Stalking for the front lines, his armor so
heavy it could have been made of stone, the
lack of the ancient sword at his side like some
phantom limb, Aedion said to Ren, “I need
you to do me a favor.”
Ren, buckling on his quiver, didn’t bother