The field outside Ironhide Fortress was a scene of smoke and sporadic fire. The initial levy assault had stalled in the burning naphtha puddles and broken ladders. Now, a more disciplined, chilling threat was deployed: the Arcane Archers.

Fifty Lupen specialists, recognizable by their hooded light armor interwoven with fine copper armor plate to manage mana discharge, and the glowing, curved wood of their Pearlwood 79 weapons, took position just beyond the effective range of the Ursarok archers. The weapons were not used like bows; they were braced against the shoulder, channeling raw mana through the Foxkin-designed mechanism.

Zzzzztt-THUMP!

The air hummed with destabilized energy, and fat, glowing Fire Mode mana bolts—not fast, but incredibly hot—slammed into the granite curtain wall. These bolts didn't penetrate, but they detonated in bursts of pure thermal shock, scarring the stone, vaporizing and sending plumes of superheated steam and pulverized rock over the battlements. The Fire Mode was designed specifically to soften the centuries-old granite defenses, making the stone brittle and prone to structural failure.

In the Lupen command tent, Captain Jorah watched satisfied but impatient, the flickering lamp casting sharp shadows on his calculating face.

"Destroy their walls! Keep the barrage steady and target the same weak points! Don't give them time to counter attack!" Jorah shouted.

A young lieutenant named Kirin leaned in, his eyes glowing with eagerness, the adrenaline of war fueling his technological pride. "Captain, shall we let the Arcane Archers switch to Ether Mode? We could breach the outer layer in two minutes using concussive force, rather than thermal shock."

Jorah shook his head sharply, the movement deliberate. "No, not yet. You don't show all of your cards to a dying opponent. Let them use Fire Mode for now. We need the Ursaroks to commit their repair crews and waste their resources. Remember, we only brought five hundred rounds for those weapons. We must use them sparingly to guarantee a breach at the precise moment, not just for show."

Just then, another lieutenant, a burly Lupen scout, galloped up on his wolf-beast and dismounted with a clatter of steel, ducking into the tent. "Captain! Our scouts from the east report an Ursarok relief column, heavy infantry, marching in full company strength. They'll be arriving by dawn tomorrow."

Jorah's smile was thin and dangerous, confirming his strategic foresight. "Then they must be coming from the Ironhide Citadel. Nice. That means all of the Ursarok's main forces are focused on defending one stone pile—their capital. Foolish bastards. It's a classic mistake to leave your strategic home unguarded by committing everything to a distraction."

The scout added, his voice strained and worried about the rear guard. "Also, Captain, our scout from the west spotted a strong Ursarok cavalry force—fast-moving knights. They'll be arriving by sunset, prepared to flank us from the rear."

Jorah muttered, contemplating the map and tracing the route with a claw. "From Hearthglen, no doubt, looking for immediate, emotional revenge. Predictable. Now that they've committed their vengeance-seekers toward us, we've drawn all their initial cards and fixed their main body in place." He faced both lieutenants, his voice ringing with cold command. "Send a message to Lord Shallrok of the Third Army: Phase One is complete. The enemy is fixed in position and their primary strategic objective is revealed."

He looked at the Foxkin lieutenant, Kirin. "Now. Tell the Arcane Platoon to switch to Ether Mode and breach the main battlements. Focus on the central repair points. After the breach is secured—and I want a gap wide enough to drive a wagon through—we'll bypass the fortress entirely and march on the south through the forest to meet Lord Shallrok. Ironhide is now a hollow shell. Let the Ursaroks defend nothing but stone and dust."

The two lieutenants snapped stiff salutes and rushed out, the Foxkin already relaying the precise firing coordinates.

Inside the Ironhide Fortress, the transition to Ether Mode was catastrophic. The roar of the mana bolts was deafening, the concussive energy transferring through the very rock. Captain Kjell, his face grim, his armor blackened with soot, screamed over the noise, "Reinforce the top walls! Hold the line! The Citadel reinforcements are only hours away!"

In the command room, deep in the bedrock, General Borkor Ironhide and Captain Freya gathered with the remaining field captains. The tremors from the impacts were severe enough to rattle their teeth. Borkor, deceptively calm despite the chaos, gripped the edge of the heavy wooden strategic table.

"Now that the Lupens have deployed their strongest firepower, committing the core of the Foxkin's arsenal, we execute the counter-strategy. Signal Commander Grif's cavalry in the forest to begin the flanking maneuver on the Lupens' camp immediately. Hit their supply wagons, their command tent, and their unarmored archers."

He continued, detailing the attack plan with ruthless efficiency. "Have them split into three groups and scatter their approach once they hit the main supply lines. Those new weapons of theirs are devastating against tight formation but useless against a scattered, fast-moving target in dense forest. We take away their advantage by denying them a target."

Freya delivered the grim accounting, her voice tight with grief. "General, in this last exchange, we have 159 dead and 281 injured. The repair crews are already overwhelmed simply by clearing debris and carrying the wounded. We are losing veterans faster than we can replace them."

"That's not bad, but it's not great either," Borkor rumbled, his gaze fixed on the map. "Every casualty is a debt we will collect. How about the structural integrity of the wall?"

A veteran captain was reporting, his face white with dust, "The forward walls are surprisingly holdi—"

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

A sequence of massive, bone-jarring explosions instantly followed, shaking the entire fortress to its foundations. Dust, thick like flour, rained down from the ceiling, choking the air, and several lamps shattered, plunging the edges of the room into shadow.

"What in the blazes is going on?!" Borkor bellowed, alert and furious.

Captain Kjell, his cheek bleeding from flying shrapnel, burst into the room. "Lord Borkor, they've switched modes! It's the pure energy of the ether! Our walls are cracking under the pressure; they will not last long! I think it's better if you see this, General."

The captains glanced at each other, alarm written on their faces, and rushed to follow Borkor to the high, interior balcony overlooking the ramparts.

Outside, the Lupens fired in devastating, rhythmic volleys. The Pearlwood weapons spewed thick, dazzling white trails of pure, concussive ether. Each bolt struck the wall and detonated with the force of a small trebuchet. The walls shook violently, visible cracks spider-webbed across the ancient stone, and huge chunks of iron-plated granite exploded inward, leaving gaping, smoking holes.

One captain stammered, horrified by the damage. "My lord, we must counterattack! Shall we signal the sortie now to relieve the pressure?"

"Delay that," Borkor said, his voice surprisingly soft and even.

The order shocked every Ursarok present, including Freya, who looked at the general in disbelief. "But General, they're going to breach our walls at any moment! We need to meet them at the gate!"

Borkor smiled, the expression cold and terrifyingly calculating. "Let them breach it."

He pointed to the fracturing wall. "That kind of firepower costs a ridiculous amount of concentrated mana and ammunition. If our outer walls fall, we let them spill into the inner bailey. We slaughter them in the narrow stairwells and choke points—a close-quarters ambush that negates their ranged superiority and plays to the Ursarok's natural strength."

He laid out the final, brutal phase of his plan, his voice gaining volume. "Let them spill through the breach, believing they have won. Then, then we signal the sortie cavalry to flank their camp and cut off the retreat. I bet my eyes that Jorah will panic and call his magical archers back to assist him with the sorties, pulling their deadliest weapons off the immediate battlefield. When that happens, and their formation is divided between the camp and the breach, we charge forward with everything we have and push the fragmented invaders out."

The captains' faces slowly transitioned from shock to fierce understanding. They realized the genius of the counter-trap: turning a devastating tactical loss (the wall breach) into a strategic victory (splitting the enemy's forces and forcing the fight into melee).

Borkor concluded, his voice heavy with resolve. "Now, prepare all of your troops. We will welcome them with open arms. We will sell them every inch of this fortress dearly."

As the captains rushed down, galvanized by the plan, Borkor watched the white bolts tear into his fortress. He smiled, a cold, hard, vengeful expression. "You may have won the battle of the wall, wolf, but we will win the war. That is why your race can never beat us. You only think for the immediate, short-term gain and rely on your new toys. You may have the power, but we got the bloody, long-term brains, forged by the very stone you seek to demolish."

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.