The loud, deep sound of the horns echoed hard against the walls of the valley, signaling the official start of the massive march.
Outside the wooden fence of the Orycto village, the ground literally shook under the feet of millions of silver-armored soldiers.
The massive city of tents had been completely packed away, leaving nothing behind but flattened grass and the giant, smoking ashes of the previous night's bonfires.
The long caravan stretched out across the narrow mountain passes for miles, looking like a giant silver snake twisting through the green landscape. In the very middle of the army, surrounded by the most elite vanguard warriors, was the royal carriage line.
Heavy iron-reinforced wheels crunched against the rough dirt road, and the massive silver flags of the Beast City fluttered proudly in the morning wind.
On the wooden porch of the expanded cottage, the small group from the dragon tribe who were being left behind stood in a straight, serious line.
