Her declaration slams into the defenders like a war drum.
Archers lift their bows again. Mages press their hands to the runes along the battlements, feeding mana into the city's wards. Even the uncertain among them straighten, their fear tempered into resolve.
Mhazul only watches her for a moment, expression unreadable. Then, a faint, amused breath escapes him.
"So be it," he says. His gauntleted hand rises slowly. "The choice was given. Now, I will take the city."
His hand falls.
The drums of the monster army thunder louder, and the ground begins to shake.
The enemy lines part.
From between the formations, the siege weapons roll forward—massive constructs of blackened steel and rune-carved timber, each mounted on colossal wheels wrapped in scaled monster hide. Even the veterans on the wall mutter curses under their breath.
But these aren't the usual boulder-throwers or crude rams.
