Mikhail snaps back to reality. His hand shoots out, grabbing the Telepath by the collar and yanking him close.
"Amplify. NOW."
The mage's eyes widen, but he obeys. Mikhail's voice erupts across the battlefield, magically amplified to reach every corner of the war.
"ASSAULT TEAMS, RETREAT! THE BARRIER IS FAILING! FALL BACK TO THE WALLS—NOW!"
Both vanguard parties respond instantly. The Imperial Knights and Golden Pike begin their fighting retreat, shields locked, blades still carving through the green tide as they withdraw step by bloody step.
Then the second spear comes.
SCHWING—CRACK!
It punches through the weakened barrier like parchment, embedding itself in the shimmering dome. Cracks spiderweb outward from the impact point, glowing with chaotic red light.
Then another.
CRACK!
And another.
CRACK! CRACK!
Mikhail takes an involuntary step back, his heart hammering against his ribs. The barrier isn't just failing—it's being systematically destroyed. He whirls toward the mages and archers lining the ramparts.
"EVERYONE OFF THE WALLS! GET DOWN—MOVE, MOVE!"
Chaos erupts. Mages abandon their posts, scrambling for the nearest staircases. Archers drop their bows and run. The disciplined defense dissolves into panicked retreat.
Mikhail plants himself at the top of the stairs, waving them through. "GO! Keep moving! Down the stairs—GO!"
Between shouted orders, he steals a glance back at the barrier.
It's a spiderweb of cracks now, barely holding together, pulsing with unstable energy.
Please, he thinks desperately. Just hold. One more minute. Thirty more seconds. Just—
BOOM.
The fifth spear doesn't just pierce the barrier.
It shatters it.
The magical dome explodes into a thousand fragments of light, the backlash sending a shockwave across the battlefield. Every mage still on the wall screams, clutching their heads as the circuit they'd maintained is violently severed.
The spear continues its arc, slamming into the rampart with the force of a meteor.
The stone explodes.
The entire section of wall shakes violently, throwing men from their feet. Mikhail braces himself against the parapet, eyes wide.
CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!
Three more spears follow in rapid succession, each one slamming into different sections of the wall. One lands mere meters from Mikhail—he watches in frozen horror as a cluster of mages is obliterated, reduced to red mist and shattered bone.
The rampart beneath his feet groans.
Cracks spiderweb across the stone.
"No—no, no, NO—"
Mikhail sprints for the stairs.
The ground gives out beneath him.
"FUCK!"
The world tilts. Stone crumbles. He falls through the widening gap, arms flailing for purchase, fingers scraping uselessly against collapsing masonry—
—and then the entire section of wall caves in.
From the battlefield below, Miyako's head snaps up at the sound of the collapse.
Her eyes find the wall—find the massive section crumbling inward, dust and debris billowing outward in a choking cloud.
Find where Mikhail had been standing.
"MIKHAIL!"
Her scream tears through the battlefield, raw and desperate, but it's lost in the thunder of falling stone.
Hilowat watches in frozen horror as the rampart where the Crown Prince had stood moments ago collapses into rubble. Massive holes gape in the wall now, sections caved in completely, revealing the city beyond.
The Orcs see it too.
Their war cries redouble, a sound like the roar of an avalanche.
The walls of Humanity have been breached.