A deafening hailstorm of arrows descended upon the vanguard, each shaft a deadly spear of wood and steel. The air shrieked with their passage, and the battlefield was consumed by a relentless, rhythmic drumming as the arrows hammered against the soldiers' shields. The impact was brutal, a continuous, jarring shock that traveled up their arms, threatening to shatter their grip. A few of the shields, already weakened from previous skirmishes, splintered under the immense pressure, the wood giving way with a sickening crack. For the unlucky soldiers whose protection failed, there was no time to react. The arrows, now unimpeded, found their mark, piercing flesh and armor with a grim efficiency, and they fell, silent and broken, into the dust.
Although they watched their comrades fall, the vanguard knew with grim certainty that their sole objective was the arrow machines. To dare to stop was to choose death, so they continued their advance, stepping over the still-warm bodies of their fallen comrades. Their every step was a deliberate act of will against a storm of steel. The relentless rhythm of the drums was their lifeline, a promise that their charge was not in vain. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the beating stopped. At the signal, they dropped as one, lying flat on their backs with their shields held over their bodies. A second volley of arrows swooped past them; a thunderous roar of vengeance that not only sailed harmlessly overhead but also shattered and destroyed the dozens of arrows from the previous volley that were still lodged in their shields.
From atop the city walls, Chong watched the Magoli vanguard execute their maneuver with a chilling, disciplined precision he had never witnessed before. The sight of the second volley of arrows soaring over the vanguard to shatter the arrows lodged in their shields was a tactical revelation, a brilliant and horrifying display of ingenuity. The defenders had planned for brute force, but Chinua had prepared for their defenses with a calculated grace. As he watched the vanguard rise and charge toward the now-defenseless arrow machines, a cold dread seized his heart, and he suddenly remembered Hye's haunting words from the day before: "You will face a general unlike anyone you've met. Chinua will hit you with a full force that's always three steps ahead. Nue-Li City will fall the moment she attacks."
The Magoli vanguard, a relentless wave of steel and fury, reached the automatic arrow machines. They swarmed the ramparts like a plague of locusts, their movements a synchronized blur of motion. With their shields cast aside, they drew the small, leather pouches they had carried strapped to their waists, each filled with a volatile, oil-soaked cloth. They ignited the rags with sparks from flintstones, and a wave of fire washed over the ramparts. The air filled with the stench of burning wood and oil as the soldiers wedged the blazing bundles into the gears and mechanisms of the machines. The metal screamed as it warped and seized, and soon, all eighty of the city's greatest weapons were engulfed in a furious blaze, their intricate mechanisms destroyed forever.
With a final, deep beat of the drums, the Magoli vanguard moved as one, a synchronized blur of bodies and steel. They quickly assembled their shields, interlocking them to create a single, tall wall of iron that stood defiant against the city walls. A final, desperate volley of arrows from the Ginmiao archers rained down upon them, impacting the shield wall with a dull, percussive roar.
Chinua, watching from the rear, knew their task was complete. She turned her head back to the second vanguard, her eyes blazing with a fierce urgency that cut through the thunder of battle. She knew from her discussions with Hye that the walls of Neu-Li City would not be shaken by any conventional weapon; their strength was not in their height but in the solid rock on which they were built. With the automatic arrow machines now smoldering ruins, the path was clear for a different kind of assault. Raising her voice to a powerful roar, she delivered her final command: "Battering Ram!"
Chong watched helplessly from the city wall as the Magoli vanguard, their shields now clear of arrows, charged relentlessly toward the city gates. The city's most formidable weapons, the automatic arrow machines, stood silent, burnt, and useless, neutralized by a single, brutal display of cunning and sacrifice. He felt a profound, sinking despair as a second wave of enemy soldiers advanced behind the first, a massive battering ram held aloft and shielded by a solid line of their comrades. In that gut-wrenching moment, Chong knew that the battle was no longer one of calculated defense and distant volleys. It had become a desperate, close-quarters fight for survival, a bloody contest of steel against steel, and he knew they were utterly unprepared.
The Ginmiao archers on the city wall raised their bows, preparing to rain arrows down upon the advancing Magoli second wave. But their attention was suddenly diverted by a new, more immediate threat. As the third wave of Magoli soldiers, fresh and ready for battle, crossed the three-hundred-meter marker, a separate, more lethal volley of arrows descended upon them. The soldiers' expressions shifted to one of pure, unadulterated horror as they turned to find themselves on the receiving end of a volley of arrows that were faster and more accurate than anything they had ever faced. They were no longer the attackers; they were simply targets in an ambush they had not foreseen.
As the third wave of Magoli archers released their volley of arrows, a second wave of archers, positioned to the flanks, released theirs, creating a deadly crossfire that pinned the Ginmiao defenders to the top of the city walls. In the midst of the chaos, a small, heavily shielded group of soldiers pushed a massive battering ram forward. Their target was clear: the city gates, now left vulnerable and undefended after the first vanguard had cleared the way.
The Ginmiao soldiers on the city wall, their faces set in a mask of grim determination, grabbed the heavy stones they had prepared in advance. Ignoring the volley of arrows now raining down upon them, they heaved the stones over the parapet. Some of the brave Ginmiao soldiers were shot down in the act, their bodies crumpling to the wall as the Magoli arrows found their mark. Yet, others managed to release their deadly payloads, and the heavy stones fell with a sickening thud, a brutal and effective defense. Some Magoli vanguard, now just a few yards from the city gate, fell under the improvised assault, their bodies crushed by the sheer weight of the stones.
Down on the ground, his face pressed into the cold stone to escape the relentless storm of arrows, Nta turned his head to the side and found Chong just a few feet away. His eyes were wide with a desperate, urgent message. "General!" he shouted over the din of battle, his voice raw with fear. "At this rate, they'll reach the city wall within the hour!" The words, a stark assessment of their grim reality, were a final, chilling note of despair in the symphony of steel and chaos.
At that moment, a soldier quickly rushed up the stone stairwell to the top of the city wall, his body trembling, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He stumbled onto the rampart where Chong and the others stood, his eyes wide with a mixture of terror and disbelief. "General! General!" he called out, his voice hoarse and strained. "A wave of Magoli soldiers are now at our northern gate, and Captain Long is their prisoner!" The words hung in the air, a final, crushing blow that revealed the enemy's true, insidious plan: while they fought one battle, they had already lost another.
The news that Long was a prisoner and not leading reinforcements to the northern gate dawned on Chong with a cold, brutal clarity. With a gut-wrenching realization, he knew the truth that lay buried beneath the chaos: the innocent civilians he had sent out, the very people he had promised to save, were long dead. He released a long, slow sigh, a sound of profound grief for their sacrifice, but in the silence that followed, a strange calm settled over him. The false hope of rescue was gone. The confusion of the Magoli strategy had been stripped away. In the wake of this immense loss, he found his mind clearer than it had ever been, the grim reality of the battle before him now as sharp and cold as the steel he held in his hand.
"Xao!" Chong's voice, now sharp with a newfound clarity, cut through the din of chaos. "Go to the northern gate and defend it!"
Without a moment's hesitation, Xao replied, "Yes, general!" and quickly turned, rushing down the stone stairwell with the breathless soldier who had brought the news. The two of them descended the winding steps at a breakneck pace, their footfalls echoing a desperate urgency. When they reached the bottom of the stairwell, the frantic shouts of battle from the northern gate were a new, terrifying reality.
Walking alone through the dark, cold corridor of Neu-Li City jail, every step Dae took was an act of defiance against the city's desperate situation. The chaos and thunder of battle from outside felt a world away, replaced by the chilling silence of the stone halls. When he reached the last cell, he found only a single, old prison guard sitting at the small table. He made his way to the bars, where Hye sat calmly, waiting for him.
"I knew you would come," Hye said, slowly rising to his feet. A knowing smile crossed his lips as he added, "With all the commotion, I bet Chinua has begun attacking the city."
Dae stared at Hye through the bars, his voice so low it was almost lost to the empty silence of the dungeon. His face was a mask of desperate hope, a raw and fragile longing for an easy answer. "Is what you said true?" he whispered, the words laced with a desperate plea. "That with a white piece of cloth tied on our doorstep, the Magoli soldiers won't cause us any trouble?" He gripped the cold wooden poles of the cell door, his knuckles white, a silent, desperate question in his eyes.
"It is true," Hye confirmed, his voice calm and steady, a stark contrast to Dae's desperation. He met the mayor's gaze, his eyes holding a profound and unnerving clarity. "You are the mayor of this city. Your job is to bring safety to the people who live here. The soldiers who are defending the city might not be spared if they refuse to surrender, but the citizens will be spared." The words were not a threat, but a grim statement of fact, a final, terrible choice placed squarely in Dae's hands.
Dae's eyes widened in disbelief. "How are you so sure?" he asked, his voice still low with doubt.
A look of unwavering confidence spread across Hye's face. "The first two rules of the Magoli Eastern Generals are absolute," he said, his voice as steady as stone. "Surrendered soldiers and civilians are not to be harmed in any way, and she will not steal from civilians. Any soldier who breaks these two rules, their sentence is death."