Five thousand iron-tipped spears bristled across the lower valley as Siege General Vorn drew his crimson broadsword.
The morning sun had barely cleared the mountain ridge, but there was no hesitation in the ducal camp. Vorn had calculated the hours down to the minute. Master Ash’s accumulator boy was at hour six hundred and ninety-five on his cultivation slate. Exactly twenty-five hours remained until the one-month cycle completed.
“Don’t let them rest for a single breath!” Vorn roared, his scarred face twisted with ruthless urgency. “Commit every infantry battalion! Send the sappers, send the shield-bearers, and advance the Blood-Puppets behind the vanguard!”
The tenth Cooldown-Bait assault slammed forward like an iron tide.
Five thousand soldiers surged up the winding switchbacks, their boots pounding the frozen mud in deafening cadence. Behind them, two towering iron-clad figures moved with rhythmic, bone-crushing strides. The quasi-Nascent Soul Blood-Puppets carried heavy poleaxes, their eyeless helmets leaking greasy crimson smoke.
Vorn intended to drown the newly rebuilt ramparts in blood and fire. If the defenders broke, the academy fell. If the boy woke up to unleash his burst, his one-month accumulation was ruined.
Either way, Vorn intended to claim his victory before noon tomorrow.
High above the lower battlements, on a limestone ledge overlooking the Great Silver Waterfall, Mina Vance stood watching the advancing army.
