Raven clenched his jaw as the trebuchet bolt slammed into the Gravewalker's torso, sending a ripple across its stone frame — but it didn't even slow.
Main gate is already breached.
Players are barely holding.
Focus.
Lose a street, you fight to take it back.
Lose the throne, you lose the war.
He couldn't abandon the gate completely.
"Knights, archers, anyone with heavy CC—peel off and hold the main gate! Choke, scatter, bleed them! No hero plays!"
No waiting for confirmation. Raven fired another ballista bolt.
Fairyblade cranked the trebuchet beside him, hands trembling at first. Then—
Something shifted.
Players around them adjusted aim, moved on instinct. Fairyblade's next crank was faster, sharper.
"Aim for the left knee!" she barked.
Her voice found ground. Others followed.
No hesitation now.
Somewhere deep inside, the lie cracked open: she hadn't come to fix anything. She came to survive the flood she helped unleash.
The patch she signed off on.
