Capítulo 43: Chapter Fourty-Three: The Battle Begins
The fortress fell into a tense silence as the enemy army approached. Every soldier, every warrior, held their breath, gripping weapons with white-knuckled hands. The air was thick with anticipation, the calm before the storm.
Elyra stood at the forefront of the battlements, her eyes scanning the horizon. The enemy forces were now clearly visible, a dark wave surging toward the fortress. Their banners fluttered in the wind, emblazoned with the symbol of the ancient evil that had been awakened. The sight sent a chill down her spine, but she stood tall, her resolve unwavering.
Garret joined her, his face set in a grim expression. "They're coming in faster than I expected. It's almost like they know something we don't."
Elyra's eyes narrowed. "They're desperate. They know this is their last chance to take the artifact. We have to be ready for anything."
Thorne and Lyra appeared beside them, the former adjusting his armor, the latter clutching her staff with a determined look. "The men are ready," Thorne said, his voice steady. "We've fortified every possible entry point. They won't take this fortress easily."
Lyra added, "The mages have set up protective wards around the key areas. It should help us hold off any magical assaults they try to throw at us."
Elyra nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude for her friends. They had all faced unimaginable trials, yet here they stood, prepared to defend their kingdom to the last breath. "This is it," she said quietly, more to herself than to anyone else. "We hold the line here. No matter what."
The enemy was close now, their front ranks forming up just out of arrow range. From her vantage point, Elyra could see the leaders shouting orders, rallying their troops for the assault. The ground trembled under the weight of their numbers, the sheer size of the force a reminder of the enormity of the task before them.
Suddenly, the enemy's front line shifted, and a group of figures stepped forward—mages, their hands already glowing with ominous power. Elyra's breath caught as she realized what was about to happen.
"Garret, get the archers ready," she ordered. "Lyra, be prepared to counter whatever spell they're about to cast. We can't let them break through the wards."
Garret didn't hesitate. He barked orders to the archers, who quickly took their positions along the wall, bows drawn, arrows nocked. Lyra moved to the center of the battlements, her eyes closing in concentration as she began to weave a counter-spell.
A moment later, the enemy mages unleashed their magic. A torrent of dark energy surged toward the fortress, aimed directly at the wards. The air crackled with malevolent power as the spell hurtled forward, intent on shattering their defenses.
But Lyra was ready. Her eyes snapped open, and with a sharp gesture, she released her counter-spell. The two forces collided in mid-air, creating a brilliant explosion of light and shadow that momentarily blinded everyone on the battlements.
When the light faded, Elyra saw that the wards had held, though cracks were beginning to form. The enemy mages were already preparing another attack, their faces twisted with concentration.
"We can't keep this up forever," Lyra said, her voice strained. "Their magic is too strong. Eventually, they'll break through."
Elyra's mind raced. They needed to weaken the enemy's magical support, but sending their own mages out to confront them directly would be too risky. She looked to Garret, who seemed to be thinking the same thing.
"Archers, target the mages!" Garret commanded. "Take them down before they can cast again!"
The archers released their arrows in a coordinated volley, the missiles arcing through the air toward the enemy's spellcasters. The first wave caught several of the mages off guard, their spells disrupted as they fell to the ground, but others quickly stepped forward to take their place.
The enemy's counterattack was swift and brutal. A barrage of dark energy bolts slammed into the fortress walls, shaking the very foundation of the structure. Elyra felt the stones beneath her feet tremble, and for a moment, she feared the walls would give way.
But the fortress held. The wards, though weakened, absorbed much of the impact, and the soldiers on the walls quickly regrouped, firing another volley at the enemy mages.
Elyra knew they couldn't sustain this kind of defense for long. They needed to change tactics, and fast.
"Garret, Thorne," she said urgently. "We need to disrupt their formation. If we can break their front lines, we might force them to fall back."
Garret's eyes lit up with understanding. "I'll lead a sortie. We'll hit them hard and fast, create some chaos."
Thorne nodded. "I'll go with you. We can use the terrain to our advantage, draw them into a trap."
Elyra hesitated for only a moment. It was a dangerous plan, but it might be their best chance. "Do it," she said, her voice firm. "But be careful. We can't afford to lose either of you."
Garret and Thorne exchanged a determined glance before turning to rally a group of soldiers for the sortie. Elyra watched them go, her heart heavy with the weight of what was to come.
Lyra stayed by her side, her face pale but resolute. "They'll do it," she said quietly. "They'll find a way to turn the tide."
Elyra hoped she was right. But as she looked out at the vast army that lay before them, she couldn't shake the feeling that this battle was far from over. The enemy was relentless, and the artifact's power was still an unknown factor.
As the enemy forces began their advance once more, Elyra's hand tightened around the artifact. The storm had passed, but another one was brewing—one that would test them all in ways they had never imagined.
And when it came, Elyra knew she would be ready. She had to be. The fate of the kingdom depended on it.
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