The cavern roof shook as a jagged stone spike plummeted into the darkness and shattered against the rock floor.
Eamon pressed his back against the damp cave wall and tightened his grip on his rusted iron sickle. He held his breath while the frantic clicking sounds echoed from the tunnels above. Five hundred starving citizens huddled behind him in the pitch black expanse of the mountain pass. They were freezing and exhausted but they remained completely silent.
Trent had taxed the lower districts of Valoria into severe famine to fund his glowing phantom armor. The Valorian king had executed anyone who dared to complain about the empty granaries in the central square. Eamon had watched royal guards string up his own brother for hiding a single loaf of bread. That memory fueled the desperat
