The sky began to darken. The sun, which had blinded the defenders during the day, now hid behind the horizon, leaving the world in bloody shades of twilight.
There was a restlessness on the walls of the fortress. Everyone felt it – this was only the beginning.
Below, before the gates, the horde had temporarily halted its assault. The orcs had not retreated—they were simply waiting.
Lenor stood on one of the towers, watching the battlefield.
—"They're not attacking. What are they waiting for?"
Grimtar approached him, leaning on his hammer.
—"They're testing us. Waiting. If they sense any weakness, they'll launch another assault."
Lenor nodded thoughtfully.
—"We need to prepare for a night attack."
Grimtar grimaced.
—"Or something worse..."
The orcs on the walls began to shift, their forms adapting to the changing night. The dwarves were still working in the forges, re-forging arrows, adjusting weapons.
Lianel stood beside the archers, helping them get accustomed to their mithril bows.
Naira stood apart, gazing down into the darkness. Her expression was heavy, almost lifeless.
Lenor approached her, stopping beside her.
—"What's wrong?"
Naira didn't even turn her head.
—"They're waiting to give me a terrible choice. Either I come out willingly, or they destroy the city."
Lenor watched her in silence.
—"Are you going to surrender?"
Naira clenched her fists.
—"Never."
Lenor nodded.
—"Then don't stay silent. When the time comes, shout so the whole world hears."
Suddenly, the sound of drums echoed through the darkness.
The horde's chieftain stepped forward, accompanied by several large warriors.
—"NAIRA!"
His voice boomed like thunder in the night.
Naira didn't react.
—"I know you're there! I know you're hiding behind these walls, behind the backs of weaklings and slaves!"
Silence.
—"You know this won't last long. Come out to me! Admit that you were wrong! Kneel, and I will spare these rats!"
Lenor gripped the hilt of his sword.
Naira sighed calmly.
—"I'm tired of hearing this crap."
And she stepped forward.
The horde froze.
—"You want me to come out?" Her voice was level. "You want me to kneel before you?"
The chieftain smiled.
—"Finally, you..."
—"Shut up."
Naira threw off her cloak and let it fall to the ground, before the eyes of the entire horde.
Her body, wrapped in powerful muscles that gleamed in the moonlight, was now visible to all. She stood proud, covered in scars that told her story.
She raised her axe and extended it in front of herself.
—"If you want me, come and take me."
For the first time, the chieftain looked unsure.
And then he laughed.
—"Did you all hear that?!" he shouted, turning to his warriors. "This whore thinks she's someone important!"
The orcs below growled, pounding their drums.
—"You don't belong to them, Naira. You're an outcast!"
— "I belong only to the one I choose," Naira said calmly.
Lenor sighed.
— "Well, now they definitely won't retreat."
Grimtar chuckled.
— "Good. Makes it even more interesting to cut them down."
The chieftain of the horde stretched his hand forward.
— "In the morning, we will destroy your gates. You will all die, just like this half-orc who sleeps next to you."
Lenor spat to the side.
— "Fool."
— "Kano will return. And then you will kiss his feet before you die."
Naira growled.
— "Exactly."
The chieftain of the horde fell silent.
The drums quieted.
And then...
— "Bring the 'Knock-knock'!" he roared, with an unmistakable resentment flowing through every word of his voice.
A deep murmur ran through the ranks of orcs—whether of fear or excitement. Several heavily armored giants moved toward the forest, which began beyond the camp. Their broad backs gleamed in the flickering torchlight, and in their hands, they carried axes capable of cutting not just trees—but buildings and fates.
The darkness hummed. And then... crack!
One of the trees seemed to exhale just as the orcs' blades sunk into its bark. Another strike. Another. And then a crack echoed across the field—an enormous trunk fell to the ground, raising a cloud of dust.
From the towers, it was visible how the orcs, growling and shouting like mad ritualists, began stripping the bark.
— "GAAARRR!" one of them shouted, tossing a piece of bark into the air as though celebrating a victory over the tree.
Another began banging his helmet against the trunk—thunk-thunk, a dull, rhythmic sound that became a chant for their barbaric work. Orcs screamed, struck with axes, palms, even their heads, each in their own way "tuning" what they called the "Knock-knock."
— "Did they... really name it that?" one of the dwarves muttered, standing next to Lianel while his friend chewed on a cracker.
— "Well, listen," the other answered, laughing, "you'd have to be lacking brains to call a war battering ram 'Knock-knock'!"
The dwarves almost fell to their knees from laughter. One of them even sat down, clutching his stomach.
— "This is better theatre than in Tir-Madri!" another cried, wiping away tears.
Lianel, standing nearby, glanced at them but couldn't suppress a smile.
— "They're like that," she whispered. "When darkness falls, dwarves laugh. It's their way of not going mad."
On the neighboring tower, Lenor stood, not taking his eyes off the field. He could hear both the dwarves and the stomping, and the ritualistic "thunk-thunk" that grew louder with each passing moment. But his face was stone-cold, as always. Aristocratic restraint—like armor.
He didn't show a single emotion, though in his mind, he already pictured how the orcs would soon name their war catapult "Boom-Boom" and their siege tower "Walking Paw."
Grimtar approached, crossing his arms over his chest as he observed the orcs.
— "Knock-Knock, you say..." he said slowly, as though testing the word in his mouth. "When I was a kid, my cat used to open the door like that."
— "Don't fall for the provocation," Lenor snapped, not looking away. "This isn't comedy. This... is sick madness in the form of military engineering."
— "Yeah. But in this madness, there's a trunk three meters in diameter," Grimtar muttered. "And twenty crazy throat-cutters pulling ropes on it. Soon, that 'Knock-knock' will knock on our gates."
— "And we'll answer," Lenor said quietly. "But with fire. And with everything we have."
Below, the orcs were wrapping the trunk in iron chains, attaching massive wheels, binding the entire structure with leather and bones. All of this was accompanied by barbaric songs and periodic howls to the moon.
One of the dwarves exploded into laughter again.
— "What even is this?! They nailed a boar's head to the front of the ram!"
— "This isn't a ram. It's fate's joke."
Lenor, Naira, Grimtar, and the other defenders of the city stood in silence on the wall, staring into the night that promised a bloody dawn.