The Northern Legion had entered the Royal City.
Squadrons of Giant Dragons and vehicles advanced along the Royal City's ancient cobblestone streets.
The ruts worn into the stone by carriage wheels didn't match the tires of the new vehicles.
Infantry columns followed behind. Victory had not broken their discipline; they still maintained neat formations upon entering the city.
Since the entire force wasn't needed to enter the city—the occasion being more ceremonial than practical—the ones selected were all veterans from the earliest days of the Northern Legion.
Marching in pairs and forming ranks was pure muscle memory; it required no conscious effort.
Although the Legion no longer had a cavalry unit, Figxin rode a white horse, proceeding slowly in the center of the column. The horse had been procured locally; she hadn't brought her own.
It was a rare instance of Figxin putting effort into her image.
