A blinding flash of spatial magic illuminated the ash-choked plains outside Aethelgard. When the light faded, the six Heralds stood before the towering obsidian walls of their former capital.
The city no longer resembled the shining metropolis they once knew. The Vanguard had transformed it into a brutal, monolithic fortress of black stone and jagged spikes.
Almost immediately, the deep, resonant blast of a war horn echoed from the battlements.
The Vanguard garrison did not hesitate. The heavy iron gates violently swung open, and a surging tide of heavily armored Chaos beasts and elite shock troops poured out onto the plains.
"Form up!" Julian ordered, raising his hands to summon a shimmering, golden barrier of hard-light.
Derek laughed, cracking his knuckles as his forearms hardened into dense, metallic armor. He charged directly into the front lines, throwing a devastating punch that shattered the skull of a charging goblin.
