The Ivory forces attacked in the dead of night as soon as the Sectors' barriers dropped.
The war cry of two hundred-something Cadets was deafening in the midnight quiet. Every single one of them dove into the Great Divide with wild abandon.
It was their final push, desperate and pitiful.
They were charging in a tight V-formation.
Their aim was to punch a hole through our frontline defenses and march straight through the marshlands directly to my throne room.
Obviously, they were going to fail.
I still had a hundred more Cadets than my sister.
I would tear open their flanks once they pushed into my front line, trapping them in a classic double-envelopment like Hannibal at Cannae.
It was a textbook setup.
My Casters had already pre-targeted the chokepoints along the central marshlands, waiting for the signal to rain fire and lightning down on their heads.
Standing on the roof of the Ebony Castle, resting my hands on the damp parapet, I took a long draw of the cool night air.
