The opening minutes had been ugly, but the line was already learning how to breathe.
Soldiers who could no longer continue were dragged back the moment their legs began to fail, and fresh troops stepped into those places before the opening could even become visible. It was rough and far from graceful, but it worked. Shields changed hands. Spears were replaced. Mages with pale faces and trembling fingers fell back toward the rear while others moved past them with mana already gathered in their palms. The battlefield was still chaos, still loud enough to make thought feel far away, but the rhythm of rotation had begun to take shape at last.
One part of the line made that change clearer than the rest.
