33rd day… The day of the blood moon… Morning time…
The Blood Moon loomed near, casting an eerie silence across the army of wizards. The Devil Mountain stood tall, silent, and unmoving, awaiting the moment when the fate of the nine realms would be decided.
In the entrance, an army unlike any seen before had gathered—millions of warriors, wizards, dragons, and beasts from every corner of the realms, all waiting for Kent's arrival and his command.
Madam Clark stood at the front lines, her sharp gaze scanning the assembled forces. The Supreme Sword Magus Elarin approached her with a grave expression.
"My lady, our guess is correct. I have identified several suspicious figures within our ranks," Elarin reported, his voice heavy with concern. "They move differently, they don't engage with other warriors, and their energy signatures are faint—like shadows trying to blend in."
Madam Clark's eyes narrowed. "Spies," she muttered. "Do you know how many?"
