We fought on as the sun dropped lower. The enemy numbers had thinned noticeably. Their attacks grew more ragged, more furious. I moved to the weakest section again when horns sounded from the north. Another push. This one felt different. Heavier.
The witch-blood heir rode forward with her remaining elite guard, power gathering around her like a storm. She aimed straight for the damaged gate. I gathered fighters around me and prepared to meet her there.
Arrows flew. Oil poured. Men died on both sides. I stood at the center of it, sword red to the hilt, voice hoarse from shouting orders. When her power slammed into us again I took the brunt of it, knees buckling but refusing to fall. Darius caught me, holding me upright as the bond roared between us.
The gate shuddered but did not break.
