On the right edge of the line, Erig’s White Heavy Cavalry rolled in like a pale avalanche to its mark. They circled a kilometer out, then leveled lances and surged, hooves drumming like war thunder. Rooftop guards loosed Wind-Cleaving Arrows like cold rain to stall the charge, but shafts that split skulls shattered like eggs on stone against Impado warhorses.

Arrows that seemed true were flicked aside with a single lance, bright steel swatting flies in a storm. As the mounts neared the iron spikes, Erig whirled his lance and smashed an iron palisade free. The fence cartwheeled through the air like a thrown comet, then crashed into a house; the roof caved in, leaving a gaping, jagged pit.

The nearby residents had long been evacuated; this was the main battleground. Everyone within a kilometer had fled, huddling in neighbors’ houses and basements like mice in rain. If this line broke, the city would have no harbor left under the night.

The cavalry charged as one, a steel broom sweeping the street. In a few passes, the obstacles were stripped clean. With Medith and the archers out of reach, the line stood like a paper screen. The guards knew these iron horses were a tide they couldn’t stop, so they withdrew in order toward safe zones, streams merging with incoming reinforcements.

Neigh—dozens of heavy riders punched through the corner and spilled into the eastern front like water through a breach. Soon—boom, boom, boom—more warhorses smashed the defense and poured in, a flood surging past broken stakes.

Sia City’s guards crouched behind shields, heavy blades coiled to strike, eyes tiger-bright on the invaders. Erig’s gaze stayed flat, cold as lake ice. He turned and drove straight into the crowd...

“Commander Medith! The eastern line’s got a hole! They’re shifting that way!” The alarm carried raw breath and grit. Medith had already seen it. “Ignore it! Hold the front! If you can stall them, stall them!” Her voice held a thin edge of urgency, like frost creeping across steel.

Their lack of numbers finally showed its teeth. When they combined their strength, yes—without the Blackblood War Chariot, even this vast army couldn’t crack their wall. But once the enemy dispersed, the deficit bared itself. Medith had to pull troops from the front to shore up the flank, a blade shaved to the limit; push further and the center would snap. Past that, fate would have to carry the rest.

Kreee—! Medith loosed a hawk’s keening. It slashed the sky and rolled across the entire front, a silver thread through the din.

...

“What was that?!” At the western edge, Sinis drove a hard assault; the cry pricked him with dread like cold needles. But the line was about to break, and he couldn’t spare thought from the hammer-swing in his chest.

Boom—crack. The defense finally shattered. Three hundred light riders knifed through at speed, a crescent of steel slicing the street.

The Sia guards set their formation, eyes like hunting cats, breath tight under helm. One hundred fifty shieldmen covered their group fully, a compact pillbox braced in stone dust. Sinis frowned, not getting the shape. From behind, a cannon-crack ripped the sky—krang—skar—

...

Erig snapped his head toward the screech, fear slamming him like ice water. In a building a stone’s throw away, an old giant war chariot stared with cold light—the Blackblood War Chariot, death coiled like a serpent. Erig blasted upward, abandoning his mount, panic sparking in his throat. “Evade—!” His shout scraped the air as the riders began to turn.

They had barely looked when a massive arrow tore out through drifting wood-splinters. Thud—the shaft punched through his chest, hollowing his torso like a gourd split clean. Blood and viscera sprayed in a red ribbon, a horror painted midair.

Thud—thudthudthudthud! The arrow kept going, a reaper scythe through men and horses. Cavaliers were flung a hundred meters, bodies and saddles hurled like broken dolls. The impact and penetration were obscene; one shot carried off more than fifty knights and mounts, lives snuffed like candles in wind.

The ruinous shaft, slick with blood and making the stomach turn, finally slammed into Sia City’s shield line two hundred meters away. Chonk—over a dozen Royal Capital-grade heavy shields burst to fragments, iron petals raining. Dozens of guards were knocked flat by the recoil; most were rattled but alive. Over a dozen shieldmen’s hands were ruined, bones powdered to dust, stark white splinters jutting through torn gloves.

The guards wrapped wounds and lifted the fallen with calm hands, as if it had all been written into the plan, as steady as farmers in a long rain.

The cavalry’s nightmare had only begun. That ruinous arrow didn’t just take fifty lives; it tore panic through the herd. After seeing death bloom like that, even trained warhorses shook as if lightning had struck under their skin.

Eyes went blood-red. Iron heads thrashed like hammers. Riders hauled reins, but the mounts had lost their minds and bolted, a storm of hooves breaking rank. Several horses tangled, iron on iron; one fall yanked others down like dominoes. Mounts flipped, hooves ruined to pulp, riders crushed under the weight, breath and bone flattened into earth.

The riders rushed to soothe them, voices and hands working like steady wind. The training held; minds flickered back. But as they steadied, hundreds of guards already had long swords raised and came on, closing for grim melee, steel teeth biting at arm’s length...

Meanwhile, far to the west, a white flash exploded, and a thick white pillar speared the clouds, lighting the long night like a second moon.

...

Dread crawled under Sinis’s ribs, but reflex saved him; he snapped his Lawbreaking Ability and blasted apart a Bonecrusher Arrow that streaked from a shadowed corner. Without it, he’d have died nameless in the dark.

Even so, dozens of riders at his side were sucked into his destruction ring, lifted ten meters like leaves in a gale. They hit hard; mud and stone burst apart, the ground chewing them in brutal bites.

“Damn...” Sinis’s form didn’t change; only a silver-white greatsword flared into being in his hand. The blade was wider than his palm and flushed crimson, like fresh blood. A sanguine eye sat in the hilt, a gaze that chilled the spine like a grave wind.

Lawbreaking Ability cuts both ways; wield it well and it’s an ultimate killer on the field. Misjudge it and you eat your own—your ring grabs allies, the enemy walks away, and half your men lie still.

“Don’t panic! Reform the line! The defense’s broken anyway! We wait for the army to converge! Forget this spot—straight to the West Gate!” With a thought, his conjured blade burst and vanished. He snatched up a fallen greatsword and led the two hundred remaining light riders, sprinting toward the West Gate like arrows loosed from a taut bow.

...

“Damn! They’re abandoning the western line! This is bad!” Medith watched Sinis’s shadow streak away and felt her gut drop, surprised at his ruthless cut.

“Sais! Take a hundred to support Milia! Sinis hits hard—Milia won’t hold! Move!” Medith gripped her long sword and shouted, her voice ringing like iron bells. The front had been abandoned; bodies poured through the breach like ants from a cracked mound. The line had broken, and the tide rolled in.

Sais’s face tightened. “What about you?! What can you do alone with a thousand?!”

“Don’t worry about me! No time to argue—go!” Medith jumped from her horse, her armor clattering like sleet, and started snapping the line back into shape.

Sais suddenly vaulted down, lifted her own helm, and pressed her red lips against Medith’s cold war-helm, a fire mark on snow. A breath later, a smear of scarlet stained Medith’s white helm. “Promise me—come back alive to see me. Promise.” Her bright eyes brimmed with tears, resolute and unwilling, like rain held behind a closed gate.

Medith clasped her soft hand in cold iron. “Relax. I’m the famed Medith. I’ll come back alive. You too—and Milia. None of you are allowed to die, got it?”

“Mhm. I will.” Sais slid her helm on, then sprinted off with the guards, cloaks snapping. With her Wind Magic rippling underfoot, their run was nearly as fast as horses, steps like the breath of a storm.

Medith vaulted back onto her mount and lifted her long sword high. “Everyone, contract the line! Abandon the flank, fall back to the next position—execute now—!” The order cracked like a whip, banners snapping to the rhythm of steel.