I stepped through the door of the central war room, two silver-bound tactical ledgers tucked firmly beneath my arm.
The loud chatter among the twelve high-ranking Bloodmoon commanders died instantly. Miguel immediately brought his hand to his brow in a crisp salute, while the regional warlords sitting around the table stood straight at attention.
At the far head of the table sat Diego. The moment his eyes locked onto mine, the cold, stern mask he wore for his men melted away, replaced by a soft smile and a curt nod.
"The floor is yours," he announced.
Not wasting a single second on pleasantries, I stepped right up to the head of the table and unrolled a grand, detailed map of the northern territory across the surface.
"Alexander expects us to funnel our main striking force straight th
