Looking out across the battlefield, countless ordinary defensive installations were set up along the city walls.
Ballistae, trebuchets, rolling logs, giant stones—everywhere there were mechanisms designed to crush invaders.
Bronzebeard gazed at these machines, his mind momentarily steadying.
"Come on, humans," he sneered. "Let me show you the true might of dwarven technology!"
Five miles away, Alan stood behind a massive shield wagon. Through his telescope, he carefully observed the approaching enemy horde.
"Well… this defense is formidable," he muttered. He lowered the telescope and began issuing orders.
"First, second, and third corps, advance from the left, center, and right!"
"Shield wagon units, take point and protect the infantry!"
"Archers, follow the shield wagons and suppress the walls!"
"Mages and summoners, hold your positions. Once their siege engines fire, destroy them immediately!"
"Cavalry, flank positions. When the gates open, charge in!"
