The horns sounded at dawn.
Not one.
Not two.
All of them.
From the western wall, the horizon was wrong.
It moved.
At first, the guards thought it was fog. Then the fog began to stumble. Shapes emerged—crooked silhouettes, dragging limbs, broken armor clinging to rotting flesh.
"The dead…" someone whispered.
There were hundreds.
No—thousands.
They poured out of the fields like a tide that refused to end.
"They don't stop," a knight muttered.
"They don't need to," another replied.
On the command platform, Aurelia Valierous stood wrapped in her cloak, pale but steady. Her eyes did not widen. Her breath did not quicken.
"Signal the inner formations," she said calmly.
"Archers to the walls. No volleys—rotations."
A runner hesitated. "My lady… there are too many."
"I know," Aurelia replied. "That is why we will not panic."
Orders moved faster than fear.
Shields locked along the battlements. Archers took measured positions, firing in disciplined waves rather than wasting arrows. Each shot aimed for joints, skulls—places that slowed rather than killed.
"Do not overextend," Aurelia continued.
"Let them pile."
The dead reached the outer field.
They did not charge.
They walked.
Relentlessly.
Arrows pierced rotten flesh. Bodies fell—only to be trampled by those behind them. The pile grew higher, forming a grotesque ramp toward the walls.
"They're using their own bodies…" a captain muttered.
"Yes," Aurelia said. "And we will use that."
"Oil reserves?" she asked.
"Ready."
"Wait," Aurelia said. "Not yet."
The first corpses reached the wall.
Hands clawed at stone. Teeth snapped at nothing. Blades scraped uselessly.
"Hold," Aurelia ordered.
The knights obeyed.
When the pile reached its peak—
"Now."
Oil poured down the wall.
Fire followed.
Flames roared, swallowing the dead in screaming heat. The stench was unbearable. Black smoke twisted into the sky.
The tide stalled.
Cheers rose.
Aurelia did not smile.
"They will not stop," she said quietly. "This is only the first wave."
Behind her, Selene raised her staff.
"I'll thin the back lines," she said.
"Controlled bursts," Aurelia replied instantly. "Do not drain yourself."
Selene nodded and began chanting. Ice and lightning ripped through clusters of the dead, freezing them in place, shattering bodies already weakened.
Even so—
They kept coming.
"They don't feel fear."
"They don't feel pain."
"They don't retreat."
Aurelia watched the field, counting silently.
Numbers. Speed. Response time.
This was not an assault meant to break Valierous.
It was meant to measure it.
"Rotate the front line," Aurelia ordered.
"Pull back fatigued units. Fresh shields forward."
The knights moved like a machine.
Leon was not among them.
He was nowhere near the walls.
And that was intentional.
As the first wave finally slowed, bodies burning and frozen in heaps, the horns fell silent.
For now.
Aurelia closed her eyes briefly.
"This was a test," she said.
The field of dead smoldered before the walls.
And far beyond-
From the burning field, figures staggered forward—charred, frozen, broken—and behind them came more. Far more. Fresh bodies stepping over ash and ice without hesitation.
"They're still coming…?"
A knight swallowed hard.
"Archers," Aurelia ordered calmly, "cease fire."
The walls went quiet.
The dead crossed the field faster than before, no longer slowed by terrain. They had learned—if such a word could be used.
Selene stepped forward.
"Let me," she said.
Aurelia looked at her sister.
"You have three rotations," Aurelia replied. "After that, you rest. No exceptions."
Selene smiled faintly. "I won't need more."
She raised her staff.
The air changed.
Heat coiled around her, warping the space itself. Runes ignited along the staff's length, glowing a violent crimson.
"High-grade fire formation," a mage whispered. "She's serious…"
Selene exhaled.
"Burn."
The sky ignited.
A pillar of flame roared downward, swallowing the front ranks instantly. The heat was overwhelming—stone cracked, metal warped, corpses turned to ash before they could fall.
But Selene did not stop.
Fire spread outward in controlled arcs, cutting through the horde like a blade. Each spell was precise, devastating—nothing wasted.
"Keep formation!" Reinhardt shouted. "Do not break ranks!"
The dead were erased by the hundreds.
Then the thousands.
Selene's eyes glowed as magic surged. Sweat dripped down her jaw, evaporating before it could fall.
"Second rotation," Aurelia called.
Selene changed her stance.
Flames condensed.
The next spell detonated outward—an explosion that flattened the field, leaving nothing but glassed earth and scattered embers.
The dead stopped moving.
For the first time—
The field was empty.
Silence fell.
Knights stared in disbelief.
"By the gods…" someone whispered.
Selene lowered her staff, breathing heavily.
"That should hold them," she said.
Aurelia nodded, already scanning the horizon.
"Yes," she replied. "For now."
The ground trembled.
Subtle. Deep.
Selene stiffened. "That wasn't me."
Aurelia's expression hardened.
"…Prepare for the third wave."
In the distance, shadows gathered again.
Different.
Denser.
Smarter.
Selene tightened her grip on her staff.
She had burned the field bare—
And something was still coming.