The air was heavy with tension as Caelorn prepared for the coming storm. Every hammer strike, every shouted drill, every clank of armor echoed like a heartbeat of a city bracing itself. The Iron Tribe was no myth—they were closer every hour.
Amani stood with Serah and the council in the strategy hall, the map lit by lanterns.
"Reports say the Iron Tribe is splitting into three spearheads," Serah said, tapping the map. "A direct assault on our gates, and two flanking movements."
Amani frowned. "They want to surround us."
"Exactly." Serah glanced up. "That's how they crush their enemies quickly."
Amani didn't look shaken. "So we won't let them surround us."
---
Elsewhere — In the Iron Tribe's Camp
Far from Caelorn, the Iron Tribe advanced like a dark tide.
At the head rode Lord Kharzug the Breaker, a massive, scarred man armored in black iron plates. His banner—a red fist—fluttered violently behind him.
He looked at the horizon with burning eyes.
"This Amani thinks he can build a kingdom?" he growled to his lieutenants. "We will burn Caelorn to its roots and use their stones to pave our roads."
A silent warrior beside him, face covered by a bone mask, nodded. "Scouts say he's gathering allies."
Kharzug laughed cruelly. "Good. Let them come. The more bodies, the more fear."
---
Back in Caelorn — The War Council
Around the table stood representatives of allied factions:
• Elder Teyra of the Wood Clans
• Commander Varun of the River Lords
• Guildmaster Salim of the Desert Guilds
Amani nodded to them all. "Thank you for coming. Our survival depends on unity."
Teyra spoke first. "The Iron Tribe hunts the forests. They burned our villages. We owe them blood."
Varun grinned. "We've wanted another battle for years. You called—we answered."
Guildmaster Salim, calm and calculating, added, "Our caravan guards will reinforce your walls. But remember: if we fall, trade in this region dies. We fight together."
Amani felt a spark of confidence. They weren't alone.
---
Preparations
Archers practiced from the towers.
Mages etched glowing runes into the gates.
Blacksmiths forged weapons until their arms shook.
Children carried water and food to supply depots.
Caelorn was no longer just a city—it was a fortress with a heartbeat.
Amani walked through the streets, exchanging words of encouragement. Every face he passed looked nervous but determined.
On a rooftop, Liora waved to him. "Amani! Come here!"
He climbed up, finding her surrounded by jars of herbs and glowing magical stones.
"These are healing wards," she explained. "I'll place them around the city. They'll reduce injuries when the fighting starts."
Amani looked at her. "You're doing more than most."
She shrugged. "Everyone here matters. Every life. I won't let fear control me."
Amani admired her courage.
---
Nightfall — The First Sign
Just after midnight, a horn sounded from the north tower.
Amani raced to the battlements. Soldiers pointed into the dark horizon.
At first, only shadows moved.
Then the ground itself began to tremble.
Thousands of torches ignited in a wave of fire.
A deep, echoing war-horn blared across the land.
The Iron Tribe had arrived.
Serah stood beside Amani, eyes narrowing. "They're testing our defenses before dawn."
Amani gripped the hilt of his sword. "Then let's show them Caelorn doesn't break."