Standing before them, larger than any natural man they’d ever seen, wrapped in mail and oscillating scale plate, stood the warrior.

“How many you kill? Er, for honor?” Karl said, glancing quickly at West.

The warrior stopped. Raised its mask from the men to look beyond. Below the world spread before them. Tucked near where mountain met plain, Vera smoldered and the shapes of her people rotted.

It looked back at Karl and West before answering. Breathed in deeply as if savoring a childhood fragrance.

“Generations.”