Within an hour, Burn Talon Army Airfield was alive with the roar of engines and the swift, coordinated movements of Beastkin soldiers preparing for deployment. Twenty V280 Valor tiltrotor helicopters and ten Invictus scout attack helicopters hovered, their rotors sending up waves of dust that curled like storm clouds. In seamless precision, soldiers and supplies were loaded, and within minutes, the fleet lifted off, heading toward Sacra-Hill in a powerful display of unified strength.

At the Burn Talon Rail Head, an armored convoy of recon vehicles was simultaneously loaded onto the Military Maglev, each vehicle secured and crewed with soldiers focused on the mission ahead. As soon as the final vehicle was locked in place, the Maglev train sped off, gliding smoothly over the rails as it accelerated toward Yasumin. Coordinated with the helicopters, the convoy would continue on the ground from Yasumin, taking the hidden "Victory Highway" that led directly to the front.

In Yasumin, residents looked to the skies as the steady, rhythmic sound of engines grew louder. A group of children playing near the outskirts of the city were the first to spot the V280 Valors and Invictus helicopters flying in formation. Pointing upward, they cried out with excitement, drawing the attention of others nearby. Soon, mothers, merchants, and laborers had joined them, their eyes wide as they watched the fleet of helicopters cross over the city.

“Look, Mama! So many!” a young boy exclaimed, tugging on his mother’s sleeve as he watched the aircraft disappear over the horizon.

His mother’s gaze lingered in the direction of the helicopters. She had never seen such a show of force from the Beastkin Unified Army before. A mixture of pride and unease filled her, knowing that this was not just a routine operation. This was an army moving to defend their people, to reclaim what had been taken.

Nearby, a group of older men gathered, murmuring to each other. “They’re not just moving supplies,” one said, his voice tinged with awe. “This is different—this is for Sacra-Hill.”

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Minutes later, the rumble of engines came again, but this time from the ground. The massive Maglev train had arrived at Yasumin, carrying a convoy of armored recon vehicles that rolled off the platform with practiced efficiency. The vehicles moved in a tight formation, quickly roaring through the city streets as they headed toward the mountain pass leading to the hidden Victory Highway. As quickly as they arrived, they left, and the streets slowly returned to their usual flow.

Shopkeepers resumed sweeping their storefronts, and vendors called out their wares, while patrons began buying their daily necessities once more. The ordinary routine was short-lived, however, as a deeper rumble soon broke through the city’s calm—a louder, more intense wave of sound that grew steadily. Hundreds of wheeled armored personnel carriers, massive wheeled tanks, and supply trucks from both the rail yard and the outpost flooded onto the streets of Yasumin, making their way to the highway out of the city.

The streets filled with residents, each one drawn by the deep, resonant hum of engines. Children watched with wide eyes, waving as the military convoy passed by. Shopkeepers paused mid-transaction, leaning out to see the rows of armored vehicles, their Beastkin insignias gleaming under the midday sun. A sense of anticipation and pride rippled through the crowd as they realized the full scale of the mission underway.

On the outskirts of Yasumin, an older Beastkin woman stood by the roadside, watching the line of trucks and armored vehicles disappearing into the distance. She had lived through a lifetime of fear, oppression, and survival, but in this moment, she felt something that had long eluded her: hope.

Long ago, she had been enslaved by the Austorians, sold to Lord Nymus Trulane as a child, before a kinder noble bought her freedom. But even that safety had crumbled when the Demon Lord’s army swept through the noble’s lands, forcing them all to flee. Now, she watched as her people moved not in fear but with purpose, an army gathered to protect their own.

A tear slipped down her cheek as she whispered to herself, “About time we show them what we’re made of.” Her voice, steady and proud, held a lifetime’s worth of resilience.

As the convoy reached the entrance to the Victory Highway, the final trucks rolled through, and Yasumin’s streets fell quiet, the thunderous procession fading into memory. Only the dust and echoes of engines remained, a testament to the powerful force that had just passed.