The team took one last look at the white spire and its horde, then turned on their heels and started back the way they had come, north, toward the black spire and the frozen horde that guarded it.
Two hours later, they returned to the white spire.
They stopped several hundred meters out, staying out of the beasts detection range.
Next to them were dozens of Frost Stalkers, harvested on the long walk between the two spires and stacked atop one another in a frozen heap. The bodies of the black spire's beasts, carried south to the white spire's doorstep.
Moon looked out at the white horde, at the pale spire rising behind it, and then at the pile of northern corpses beside him.
"Alright. Everything's set in motion."
He rolled his shoulders, and the Arctic Fire-Prowler at his side let out a low breath of steam.
"Let's begin."
Moon's team went into hiding, spreading out into the snow and dropping low, laying an ambush at the edge of the horde's range.
