Every time I saw them getting closer… and closer… a cold, heavy feeling crept into my chest.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
It wasn't just a group of people approaching a frightened city gate.
No… there was something off about the whole picture.
They were walking… simply, as if nothing had happened. As if the death waiting for them didn't exist.
Was it ignorance?
Or… a trap?
I narrowed my eyes as I watched them from atop the cold stone wall.
The soldier within me began analyzing the scene rapidly.
Their formation was chaotic.
Not enough armor.
Some were leading cages… others walking without any clear order.
No battle formation.
No caution.
Either they were stupid…
or terrifyingly confident.
But on the battlefield… doubt kills more slowly than a sword.
So I decided to act.
I raised my hand slowly.
"Prepare yourselves…!"
Breaths halted along the wall.
Then I continued coldly,
"Aim at them… men."
In a single moment, the long edge of the wall turned into a forest of drawn bows.
Tense fingers pulled the strings…
Wood creaked faintly…
Arrowheads glinted dimly.
All eyes were fixed on those standing beside the cages.
Only then… did they notice us.
Their steps stopped.
Their heads slowly lifted toward the wall.
From among them, a hesitant voice emerged:
"L–Leader…"
One of the men whispered as he looked up in clear confusion.
"A–are these the people…?"
He hesitated for a moment, then added anxiously,
"Why… do they seem to be aiming their weapons at us?"
There was no time to answer.
I lowered my hand.
"Fire."
In the next moment…
the air exploded.
Whoooosh!
A dense volley of arrows shot forth like a black storm.
The sounds of flesh being pierced mixed with cries of pain.
"AAARGH!!"
Some men fell instantly, arrows buried in their necks and chests.
But… not all of them.
Many did not fall.
They kept moving.
Marcus suddenly stopped.
His eyes widened slightly.
The city that was supposed to be silent and hiding in the dark…
had been waiting for him.
And that realization reached him… a little too late.
He tightened his grip on his weapon, then shouted like thunder:
"All soldiers…!"
His voice slammed against the surrounding walls.
"Raise your shields!"
Then he immediately continued, in the tone of a commander accustomed to surviving chaos:
"The rest… fall back!"
It was a decisive moment.
The men who had been fifty just moments ago…
their numbers shrank rapidly.
Thirty of them withdrew immediately with the prisoners and cages, leaving the field.
Only twenty remained.
Twenty… but they were no ordinary men.
These were the elite.
The ones who had survived dozens of battles.
They stood close together, their large shields raised, forming a wall of metal.
Only now did they understand the truth.
Those on the wall… were no longer frightened civilians.
They had become enemies.
But the real question in Marcus's mind was different:
How…?
How did they know we were coming?
Who leaked the information?
Was there a spy?
Had the city been watching them from the beginning?
And why were they attacking them exactly? Did they discover what they intended to do?
But thinking about that now… was useless.
In battle… hesitation kills.
So he pushed all those questions aside.
"Advance!"
The twenty men surged forward as a single mass.
Their heavy footsteps pounded the ground as they charged toward the gate.
They passed over the fallen bodies…
crushing them beneath their armor without even looking.
The ground before them was filled with pits and uneven terrain…
but their charge was like a beast running without stopping.
From atop the wall, the arrows kept raining down.
Whoosh!
Whoosh!
But…
The arrows struck the shields.
Clank!
Thunk!
They slid off with barely any effect.
As if they were nothing more than straw hitting stone.
One of the soldiers shouted, laughing savagely,
"Is that all you've got?!"
But things… didn't stay that way for long.
Suddenly…
Flames appeared.
The next arrows… were burning.
Fiery streaks tore through the dark air.
Whoooosh!
They struck the shields… and fell to the ground.
They barely hit anyone.
But… that wasn't the goal in the first place.
I smiled slowly as I watched the scene.
Every arrow that fell… left fire behind.
The ground beneath their feet began to glow.
At first… just small flames.
Then… the fire spread suddenly.
The oil that had been poured earlier into the pits and between the rocks ignited all at once.
Fwoooosh!
The الأرض transformed into a sea of fire.
Flames rose around their legs, devouring everything.
A thick smell filled the air.
The smell of… roasted flesh.
"AAAAAH!!"
The fire began consuming their legs.
Their armor protected them from arrows…
but it did not stop the heat from creeping inside.
Even so…
They did not stop.
"Keep going!!"
Marcus shouted as he pushed forward.
But one of them cried out in despair:
"My God…!"
His breathing was heavy.
"How far do we have to go like this?!"
The problem wasn't just the fire.
It was the distance.
The more they ran… the farther the gate seemed.
Flames, smoke, screams…
all of it clouded their minds.
Black smoke seeped into their chests.
Coughing tore at their throats.
Their skin beneath the armor began to blister…
flesh slowly charring.
Yet in the midst of all that…
There was one person who was different.
Marcus.
He pushed forward like an iron beast.
The fire struck his body…
but he did not stop.
Obstacles slammed into him…
and shattered.
Pits, rocks, corpses…
all of them broke beneath his weight.
He was like a human tank.
From atop the wall… I narrowed my eyes as I watched him.
"Hmm…"
But… it wasn't over yet.
As they pushed through the flames…
The first soldier fell.
"AAAAAAH!!!"
He vanished suddenly into a pit.
It wasn't very deep…
but what lay inside was worse.
Iron stakes.
Broken swords.
Dozens of them, embedded upward.
They pierced his body completely.
Blood burst from his chest and back at the same moment.
The others froze for a second.
Then the second fell.
Then the third.
The men began jumping carefully now.
No one charged blindly anymore.
One of them shouted while barely avoiding a pit:
"Damn it! There are traps!"
Another snarled in anger:
"No one wants a sword shoved up their ass!"
But even caution… wasn't enough.
Marcus himself fell into several pits.
But…
Each time, he stood back up.
The stakes broke.
The swords bent.
As if his body was simply… harder than them.
And finally…
After all of that.
Fire.
Smoke.
Traps.
Corpses.
Marcus reached the gate.
He stood there… breathing slowly.
His massive body was covered in soot, with flames dancing around him.
His eyes rose toward the wall.
Then he struck the gate with his fist.
But before the blow… his voice had already preceded it.
A hoarse voice, filled with heavy contempt, shot up toward the top of the wall:
"Old man…!"
He paused for a moment, then shouted with genuine anger:
"Did you betray the temple?!"
His words slammed against the stone like bullets.
Then he continued in a harsher tone:
"Tell us… who incited you… and maybe… just maybe… we'll spare that pathetic life of yours!"
In the next moment
BOOOOM!
His fist crashed into the massive wooden gate with a blow that felt like a cannon shot.
The wood trembled.
Even the ground itself shook slightly beneath the feet of those nearby.
Dust fell from the top of the wall.
This was not the strike of an ordinary man.
It was the strike of a monster wearing human skin.
Moments later, the rest of his soldiers began to reach him.
One… after another.
But their number was no longer the same.
Only ten remained.
Just ten men, yet each of them stood firmly within the sea of fire… as if they had come straight out of hell itself.
They stood behind Marcus, their shields covered in soot and blood.
Their breathing was heavy…
but their eyes remained sharp.
Marcus shouted again, this time directing his voice straight inside:
"Come on… come out and face us yourself!"
He struck the gate again.
BOOM!
"You know very well you are no match for us!"
Then he smiled a savage smile.
"Even if you awaken an army of the dead…!"
A third strike.
BOOOOM!
The wood began to crack.
"…killing me… is not an easy task."
At that moment, his soldiers surged forward.
Swords were raised.
And strikes began raining down on the gate.
Clang!
Crack!
Kraaak!
Inside the wall, I narrowed my eyes.
'Damn it…'
I watched the gate tremble under the blows.
'If they keep this up…'
The sound of splintering wood was clear.
'They'll break through the door.'
I turned immediately.
There was no time to hesitate.
"Bring the rocks!"
It only took moments.
The strongest men stepped forward.
Their muscles tensed…
veins bulging from the strain.
They carried massive stones above their heads.
But the word "massive" wasn't enough to describe them.
They were enormous.
Stones weighing hundreds of kilograms.
They stood at the edge of the wall.
Then…
They dropped them.
BOOOOM!
The first rock fell like a meteor.
The ground shook.
Then the second.
KRAAASH!
The third.
DOOOOM!
The tremors were so strong that those below felt as if a small earthquake was striking the place.
The sound of bones being crushed beneath the الصخور was clearly heard…
by those who didn't miss it.
But…
Moments later, Marcus appeared from within the dust.
Standing.
He did not fall.
He did not break.
He did not retreat.
He stood… like a stone pillar amid destruction.
I stared at him in shock.
"Damn…"
The words slipped out of my mouth without intention.
"What is that bastard's body made of?"
The rocks fell on him.
Swords struck him.
Fire burned the ground beneath his feet.
But…
Nothing changed.
He was like a moving fortress.
A mountain of flesh that could not be easily scratched.
Marcus slowly raised his head toward the wall.
Then he clenched his fist.
And finally
He gathered all his strength.
Then struck.
BOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
The final blow was catastrophic.
The cracked wood could no longer hold.
The massive gate…
collapsed completely.
Shattered.
Planks flew in every direction.
All of that…
With sheer physical force.
Marcus stood amidst the wreckage.
Dust surrounded him.
Fire behind him.
"Come out… and face me!"
His eyes gleamed with madness.
"I am the one who came to you from the land of pride!"
Then he smiled with contempt.
"I want to see your faces…"
He paused for a moment.
"…you who dared to challenge us."
On top of the wall, I growled through my teeth.
"Damn…"
I turned toward the men behind me.
"They've already broken in…"
"But we're ready for this too."
Seconds didn't pass
before the people of the city began to emerge.
Men carrying rusted swords.
Others holding crude spears.
But their eyes held only one thing…
Determination.
I jumped from the top of the wall.
I landed lightly on the ground… as if the height was nothing.
Dust rose around my feet.
Then I raised my head toward Marcus.
I looked straight at him.
"You…"
I said slowly.
"You who stormed our city…"
I paused for a moment.
"…what do you want?"
For a brief moment…
Everything went still.
As if the air itself had stopped.
But Marcus did not answer immediately.
Instead…
He looked at me.
Stared at me for a few seconds.
Then turned his face away, scanning the courtyard.
As if I wasn't important enough.
"You, boy…"
He wiped the blood from his fist.
"Where is your old leader?"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"That man… has truly angered me."
I smiled a cold smile.
Then pointed to the ground beneath my feet.
"That old man…"
I said calmly.
"His time has passed."
Then I stomped the ground with my foot.
"And his grave… is there."
I raised my eyes to him.
"…beneath your feet."
I paused for a moment.
Then added in a more dangerous tone:
"And if you want to talk…"
I extended my hand toward my sword.
"Then you'd better ready your weapon."
Then I smiled slightly.
"Men… fight."
But Marcus…
Did not care.
He was looking at me with a strange expression.
Soldiers from both sides began to move.
Swords left their sheaths.
Shields were raised.
The battle was on the verge of erupting.
But Marcus's mind was occupied with something else.
'This boy…'
He narrowed his eyes.
'I feel like he's… familiar somehow.'
He paused for a moment.
Then shook his head.
'It doesn't matter.'
A cold smile appeared on his face.
'Let's just… punish this trash.'
He slowly raised his sword.
Both sides prepared.
Elia's men were greater in number.
But…
Less experienced.
As for Marcus's men…
They had lived for years in hell.
When the rest of their group fled with the prisoners…
they didn't flee out of fear.
It was a decision.
The weak run.
The strong… stay.
Either they live to carry one message
or they die while carving a path toward that goal.
But… none of them knew.
That something else was approaching.
The flames…
The smoke…
And the smell of burning flesh that filled the place…
Was an open invitation.
And in this world…
There is always something that answers invitations.
In the darkness beyond the walls…
Shadows moved.
The predators of the region.
Creatures accustomed to following the scent of death.
They drew closer.
Slowly.
Hunger gleaming in their eyes.
Soon…
The battle would no longer be between two sides.
But three.
I raised my sword high.
Then shouted at the top of my voice:
"Come on!!"
I looked at the men behind me.
"Defend what we have!!!"
The men tightened their grips.
They remembered why they fought.
Not for glory.
Nor for honor.
But for survival.
On the other side…
Marcus raised his weapon.
Then surged forward.
And shouted like a madman:
"Come on!!!"
His voice shook the air.
"Kill them… one by one!!"
And so…
The battle erupted.
It was a very small battle.
So small that no real army would even call it a war.
But…
Those fighting in it…
Were not ordinary humans.
These…
Were people who had lived long within madness.
People who survived while the world around them devoured minds and bodies alike.
People…
Who had nothing left to lose.