The first sound was thunder — not from the heavens, but from the earth itself.

The cannons roared across the eastern ridgeline, shaking the sand and soil of Sunreach. A storm of fire and steel rolled through the morning fog, tearing apart the silence that had haunted the fortress since dawn.

"Enemy approaching from the southern gate! Siege towers—three of them!"

The call echoed from the watchtower. Soldiers scrambled into formation, boots hammering the stone ramparts. The air smelled of oil, sweat, and burning pitch. Dust and heat wrapped around them like a living thing.

General Noah stood atop the command bastion, coat flapping against the rising wind. His eyes cut through the smoke — silver, sharp, unblinking.

"Signal the third regiment to brace the left flank," he ordered. "May, get the artillery turned toward the ridge. They're pushing from the valley, not the plain."

Captain May Vale's voice cut through the din. "Yes, sir! All batteries — thirty degrees north! Switch to fragmentation shells!"

The crews obeyed in rhythm. Steel mechanisms clanked and groaned as massive cannons swiveled toward the oncoming horde. Sparks leapt from sigil engravings as mana runes ignited along the barrels. The smell of charged iron filled the air.

Through the haze, the first sight of the enemy emerged — a dark tide of banners and shields cresting the horizon. The Southern Alliance, vast and relentless, advancing in perfect order. Siege towers loomed behind their ranks, wrapped in plated armor and drawn by beasts twice the size of horses.

"By the gods…" one soldier whispered. "They've brought the whole southern division."

Noah's voice was calm, almost cold. "Then we'll bury them here."

He raised his hand. "Fire."

The hills shook.

Artillery thundered from the walls of Sunreach, sending flaming shells arcing into the advancing columns. Explosions tore open the ground — dirt and men thrown skyward in sprays of red and dust. The Southern lines staggered but didn't break. They closed ranks, shields locking, mages raising barriers of molten earth.

"Reload! Faster!" May barked, smoke blackening her face as she hauled a chain into place.

Another barrage screamed overhead. The air vibrated with mana discharge, enough to make the stone underfoot hum.

"Range adjustment—fifty meters shorter!" Noah commanded. "They're using elevation to mask their siege towers."

The next volley struck true. The lead tower burst apart in a fiery bloom, fragments raining down on soldiers below. Screams mingled with the crash of splintering wood.

But still they came.

From the western ridge, a deep horn bellowed. A second wave surged forward — armored cavalry glinting beneath the weak morning sun. They cut through the smoke like silver predators.

"They're flanking from the west!" Ren Harven shouted from below. "If they reach the gate—"

"They won't," Noah interrupted. "May, open the lower gate and flood the trench."

Her eyes widened. "That'll drown our own scouts!"

"Do it."

She hesitated only for a heartbeat before nodding. "Understood."

With a twist of a lever, the old water channels beneath the fortress burst open. A torrent of dark, muddy water surged down the valley, colliding with the advancing cavalry. Horses screamed as the ground gave way beneath them, swallowing riders into the churning trench.

May watched, breath trembling. "You planned that?"

Noah's gaze didn't waver. "Every inch of this land is a weapon."

---

Hours passed.

The battlefield became a furnace. Arrows filled the air like rain. The roar of artillery was constant, relentless, deafening. Smoke turned the sky black, and every breath tasted of iron and ash.

"Left tower's breached!"

A tremor rippled through the walls. The southern siege had reached the fortress gates. The heavy iron doors trembled under impact after impact, runes sparking as the protective wards began to fail.

"May!" Noah shouted over the chaos. "We need suppressive fire on the gate! Now!"

"I'm out of fragmentation shells!"

"Then use the reserves!"

She sprinted toward the inner depot, boots pounding across shattered stone. Behind her, a blast threw debris into the air — a cannon overheated and exploded, flinging its crew across the battlement.

Noah didn't flinch. He stood amidst the storm, eyes following the rhythm of the enemy's attack. Every three volleys, a pause — a subtle shift in their formation. He counted it silently, like a heartbeat.

Three. Two. One.

"Now!"

The northern mages unleashed their counter — pillars of frost bursting from the ground, freezing the earth beneath the Southern battering rams. Their wheels locked, their beasts stumbled, trapped in ice.

"Archers!" Noah raised his arm. "Aim for the hinges!"

A thousand arrows loosed at once, cutting through smoke and fire. The frozen gate shattered under the assault, sending shards of ice and steel flying.

"General!" Ren called from below. "We've repelled their vanguard, but the second and third waves are forming!"

"I know."

"Then we can't hold—"

"We will hold."

---

Evening came, though no one could tell through the haze.

Sunreach was a ruin of smoke and corpses. The walls bled dust and flame. The smell of gunpowder hung thick, heavy enough to sting the eyes.

May stumbled back to Noah's side, her hands blackened, uniform torn. "We've lost half the east batteries. We can't keep this up."

Noah stared down at the valley. The Southern army was reorganizing — banners lifting again, glints of mana gathering at the tips of their mage lines.

He spoke quietly. "They think we've run dry."

May frowned. "Haven't we?"

A faint smile crossed his lips. "Almost."

He turned to the signaler. "Raise the blue flare."

Moments later, a streak of azure light cut through the smoke, bursting above the fortress.

Far in the ravine beyond the southern valley, hidden batteries came alive — cannons buried under camouflage and dirt. Their barrels rose in silence.

Then, like a single heartbeat, they fired.

The earth convulsed.

Explosions rippled through the Southern ranks, tearing open formations that had marched unbroken all day. Their siege engines shattered, flames devouring their supply lines. Soldiers screamed, shields falling as fire rolled across the valley.

From the walls, Northern troops cheered — raw, hoarse voices cutting through the storm.

May stared, wide-eyed. "You… you set them there from the start?"

Noah didn't answer. His gaze was fixed on the burning horizon, the glow reflecting in his eyes.

"I let them see what they wanted to see," he murmured. "An army struggling. A fortress dying. A general desperate."

He looked at her, voice low. "But this isn't about winning battles. It's about teaching them what it costs to believe they've already won."

---

When the night finally fell, the Southern banners lay trampled in the mud. The battlefield was silent except for the crackle of fire and the moan of the wounded.

May leaned against the rampart, her body trembling from exhaustion. "It's over… for now."

Noah stood beside her, his expression unreadable, coat torn and bloodstained.

She glanced at him. "You knew this would happen, didn't you?

The flood, the hidden batteries, even the timing of their retreat..."

Yet again Noah said nothing.