Lyan stood at the front of his troops, his breath heavy, his eyes focused on the retreating enemy. He raised his glaive, his voice filled with determination as he spoke.
"This is our chance! We're taking the first blood!"
Lyan rode beside Alice, his expression calm but focused, the shaft of his glaive resting across his back. The horse beneath him stepped confidently, mirroring the aura of its rider. Lyan's sharp eyes scanned the terrain ahead, taking in every detail, analyzing every rise and dip in the ground, preparing for what was to come. His companions, dressed in uniform armor with the crest of Astellia, followed behind with a precision that spoke of discipline.
Alice rode slightly ahead, her steely eyes reflecting the same determination Lyan wore. She turned to glance back at the troops, her gaze traveling over the focused faces of each soldier. Then, with a nod, Lyan gave her a smile—a signal of trust.
