The frost had broken.
Not in silence, but with the groaning of stone, the shattering of ancient snow, and the creaking release of a continent exhaling its breath after months of clenched cold.
Spring had come.
And with it, war was reborn.
The Iron Corridor — the great scar carved by Romanus through the eastern marrow of Francia — had held through winter's siege.
Though battered, encircled, and at times fractured by Saint Joan's relentless resistance, it remained open, a bleeding artery of iron and will leading from the interior heart of Germania to the northern sea.
But now, with the thaw, it pulsed anew.
And it was ready to bite.
~
Romanus Forward Command – Outskirts of La Morienne, First Day of Thaw
Julius stood at the edge of the encampment, his cloak catching the wind as he watched the fog lift off the river.
