The second attack came.
Not in then morning when defenders weren't their freshest. Not when at night when exhaustion was at its peak.
Midday, when the sun was high and dragons' night-adapted eyes were at their weakest. Vorthraxx had grown up among them. He knew their biology, their rhythms, their vulnerabilities. He'd designed this war to exploit every advantage.
Owen stood on the eastern wall when the first wave crested the horizon. His Dragon's Eye pierced the distance, counting, categorizing.
Three thousand demons. Heavier units than the first attack. Siege equipment rolling forward on massive wheels. And among them were...
Dragons.
Owen's breath caught.
