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Chapter 115: Ash And Silence
The city did not sleep that night.The moans of the wounded carried through the narrow streets, a chorus of pain too heavy for silence to smother. Fires flickered on the walls, torches burning low, casting long shadows that danced like mocking echoes of the battle just passed.Clara moved through it all with steady steps, though her body cried for rest. Her arm was bandaged hastily, the cut burning with every movement, but she ignored it. Her eyes swept from soldier to soldier, checking wounds, offering words of comfort, even when her own voice faltered.At one corner of the courtyard, a young girl sobbed as she tried to clean her brother’s wounds. Clara knelt beside her, gently taking the cloth. “Let me,” she whispered. The boy’s leg was mangled, but not beyond saving. Clara worked quickly, binding the wound with careful hands, whispering prayers between her teeth.When the boy finally slipped into exhausted sleep, the girl looked at Clara with tear-streaked cheeks. “Will we live thr
Chapter 114: Shadows Unbound
The roar of the defenders still echoed when the first of the shadow-creatures struck the wall.They moved like liquid night, their limbs twisting unnaturally, claws cutting into stone as though it were clay. Arrows pierced them, but instead of blood, smoke hissed from their wounds. Still they climbed, shrieking with voices that scraped against the soul more than the ear.Clara’s heart thundered as one surged over the parapet. A young soldier froze, his spear slipping from his hands. The shadow lunged—only to be met by Clara herself. She snatched the spear, drove it forward with all her strength. The creature shrieked, dissolving into ash, but its stench lingered, foul and heavy.Her breath came ragged, but her eyes blazed. “They can be killed!” she shouted. “Stand fast!”Jonathan appeared at her side, his sword already blackened with shadow-blood. “You take command of the wall. I’ll hold the gate.” Without waiting, he vaulted down the stair, plunging into the thick of the fight.The s
Chapter 113: The Dawn Vigil
The night before dawn stretched endlessly, each hour heavy as stone. The city had no true sleep—only the restless stirring of bodies pressed into corners, children clinging to mothers, soldiers sharpening blades though their hands trembled with fatigue.From her chamber window, Clara watched the wavering glow of torches upon the western wall. Every heartbeat carried her closer to dawn, closer to the test that would decide all: the city, her people, and Michael’s very soul.Jonathan entered quietly, armored already, helm beneath his arm. His eyes, sharp and dark, studied her for a long moment. “You should rest, Clara.”Her lips curved into something between a smile and a grimace. “How can I, when the city does not?”He stepped closer, setting the helm upon the table. “Because they will look to you when the sun rises. If you fall, even for a breath, so will they.”Clara turned from the window. Her shoulders sagged, not from weakness but from the crushing weight of all she carried. She w
Chapter 112: The Man At The Gate
The torches blazed along the western gate, their light fighting against the vast sea of shadows pressing from beyond the walls. The fires on the hills had spread, painting the horizon a sickly orange, as though the very heavens bled. Yet for all the flames, the air was heavy with silence. The enemy host lingered just out of bowshot, patient and watching.And then—movement.The iron groan of the gate’s outer bridge lowered, its chains rattling in the dark. The guards tensed along the battlements, arrows notched, hands trembling. From the firelit fog, a single figure emerged, walking with deliberate steps across the open ground. A white truce flag swayed in one gauntleted hand.Clara stood on the wall above, breath caught in her chest. The figure’s armor gleamed faintly in the torchlight—dented, scarred, yet unmistakable. Michael’s armor.Her knees weakened. She gripped the stone battlement, the chill seeping into her fingers.“Michael…” she whispered.Jonathan stood rigid beside her, e
Chapter 111: The Banner In Ashes
The bells tore through the night like thunder, their peal urgent and unrelenting. Clara had not heard them since the rebellion—when the gates had nearly been torn down and the city had bled in its own streets. She raced from the council chamber, her cloak snapping behind her, Jonathan close at her side.“Trouble?” Jonathan muttered, hand already on his sword.Clara said nothing. She didn’t need to. Trouble was written in the eyes of every guard they passed, in the hurried feet pounding up the stairs, in the cries of people stirring awake in the streets below.At last, they reached the western wall. Clara climbed the final rung, heart hammering in her chest. The night wind was sharp against her face, carrying the acrid sting of smoke.“Look!” one of the sentries shouted, pointing toward the horizon.Clara’s breath caught. Fire glowed along the edge of the dark hills, like a great wound burning against the sky. The flames licked upward, devouring the night. And there, moving with dreadf
Chapter 110: Through The Wastes
The land beyond the city’s walls was no longer land but ruin—parched earth cracked like old parchment, forests reduced to skeletal remains, rivers shrunken to foul trickles. Smoke clung to the air like a second skin, and the sky burned with a perpetual ash-gray glow.Michael trudged onward, his cloak ragged, his boots caked with mud and blood alike. Every step was an act of defiance against exhaustion. His sword, once gleaming, bore notches and scars, a reflection of the man who carried it.Behind him, the trail was littered with signs of his struggle—fallen beasts, charred earth where fire had consumed, stones still quivering from the tremor of battle. Yet none of it brought him comfort. For beyond every victory rose the same unyielding truth: the enemy’s legions were endless.He paused at a ridge, looking down upon a valley that once bore farms and villages. Now it was a wasteland of twisted iron and broken walls. Smoke rose from what little remained, and in the haze he saw movement
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