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Boom—!!!
With a deafening explosion, a section of the capital’s massive walls crumbled.
Crash!
“Enemy ambush! Aaaahhh…!!”
The screams of the soldiers on watch faded as they were swept away by the wave of debris and dust.
“Don’t panic! The wall isn’t entirely destroyed! Hold them back…! Don’t let the enemy brea—”
Shnk!
The commander of the defensive forces tried to take control of the situation, but his head fell before he finished his sentence. His last moments were seen by no one, his death obscured by the falling wall fragments.
“Ugh, my blade has dulled…” Zigra muttered to himself irritably, though he had beheaded the commander with utmost precision, not a drop of blood left on his blade.
Whoosh—
He borrowed another sword from one of the fallen soldiers and swung it a few times, trying to get a feel for it. As his own sword had been reduced to ash by Darryl Harian, Zigra had been forced to get a new blade for this assault.
“There’s a magical barrier on the second wall. We’ll need to create a commotion to distract the enemy long enough for our lord to breach it.”
“Yes, sir!”
The ten warriors of the Moonlit Night had already scaled the towering walls at the moment of the first explosion,...
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