The pre-dawn air was crisp as Arthur made his way to the officer's training grounds. Unlike the main courtyard where regular soldiers drilled, this smaller space was reserved for Lyranth's military leadership—and right now, Darien Hawklight was putting a group of captains through advanced formation drills.
"No, no, NO!" Hawklight's voice cut through the morning. "If you're flanked by orc berserkers, standard shield wall won't hold. You need the modified wedge with—" He stopped mid-sentence, sensing Arthur's approach. "Your Majesty."
The captains immediately saluted, but Arthur noticed how Hawklight's hand instinctively moved to Flamestrike's hilt—not in threat, but in the automatic readiness of a career soldier.
"Don't let me interrupt," Arthur said. "Actually, Commander Hawklight, perhaps a practical demonstration? It's been a while since we've tested each other."
