The climax of the Blood Moon War had come at last, and it was unfolding across the plains of Valachia.
Anyone with eyes could see it. The coming hours would decide everything. The long struggle had reached its final threshold, that terrible point beyond which there would be no retreat, no pause, no second chance to recover what had been lost.
The Resistance had gathered the full strength of its remaining forces to confront the Vampire Witch and the army she had unleashed upon Sancta Vedelia. Never before had the fighting been this savage. The battlefield had become a place of torn earth, shattered steel, and screams swallowed by the roar of monstrous things. All across the plains, the Witch's blood-born abominations rampaged through the lines like living nightmares, crushing formations, tearing through mounted ranks, and staining the ground beneath them with fresh ruin.
And yet the knights of the Resistance did not break.
