CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
Anvin stood guard before the Southern Gate, Thebus and his men behind him, and as the sun rose high in the sky, the heat relentless off this patch of desert, he clenched and unclenched his grip on his sword. It was an old habit, one he always fell back on when danger was coming. And as he watched the horizon nervously, he saw looming the greatest danger of his life.
The rumble was growing louder, as it had been for hours, the horizon filled with a sea of black, infantry marching, hoisting the yellow and blue banners of Pandesia. Behind them came rows of cavalry, and behind these, rows of elephants, rhinos, and other beasts he did not recognize, all ridden by soldiers. The infantry bore all manner of weaponry, and they marched in perfect and terrifying discipline. The
