Dawn broke as a faint smear of grey across the volcanic plains, casting a dull light over the fields of shattered stone and still-steaming beast carcasses. The scent of molten slag mixed with smoke lingered in the air, heavy and clinging. Riku stood atop the southern rampart, watching his people drag the broken basalt hound bodies into controlled burn pits beyond the outer trench.
He had given no speeches that morning. They didn't need them. Every man and woman in Blackridge had already tasted what survival demanded.
Kael wiped a streak of soot from his cheek as he approached. His usual steady voice carried a quiet edge of exhaustion. "South trench is holding, but barely. We lost four pressure plates and three flame vents. The obsidian traps cracked clean through on the western watch. We'll need more slag reinforcement before nightfall."
Riku nodded, gaze still fixed on the horizon. "And the wounded?"
Kael hesitated, then answered low. "Two unconscious. Tira's stable, but she won't hold a glaive for weeks. Garran's worse. Lost too much blood."
The weight settled behind Riku's ribs like a familiar companion. "Pull anyone too injured from duty. Rebuild first line with the third squad."
He left Kael to the southern repairs and made his way toward the forge, passing Sira's patrol assembling near the gate. Their armor was still dusted with ash, but their eyes were sharp, scanning every shadow.
"Report," he said.
Sira fell into step beside him. "I ran the ridge again before sunrise. Spotted old trail markers about two clicks west—likely scouted during the night. Too small for beast tracks, too precise for wild animals."
"Human?"
She gave a short nod. "Possible rival scouts. They didn't come closer. Could be feeling us out. No banners. No camps found."
Riku's jaw tightened. Another sovereign, then. Close enough to watch, far enough to hide.
"Keep your patrols light," he said. "We're still under Blood Moon. No need to give our position away."
"Understood." Sira adjusted her hood against the rising heat. "We'll sweep again at dusk."
Inside the forge, heat rolled off the walls in slow, steady waves. The obsidian forge core hummed, drawing energy from the cracked volcanic veins below. Riku checked the newly crafted glaive stocks—fifteen in total, six still untested. He needed more. Always more.
On the workbench, the broken fragments of last night's defenses lay scattered—splintered obsidian, warped steel, melted trap gears. He turned them over in his hands, weighing the flaws.
And then his system flickered, quiet as breath.
[Structure Adjusted: Southern Gate Plating | Heat Resistance Improved | Durability +15%]
He didn't flinch, didn't smile. Just cataloged it mentally, already moving on. Quiet shifts like this made the difference between survival and collapse, but they couldn't be relied on. Every edge was temporary.
By late afternoon, the repair crews finished replacing the shattered flame vents. Smoke from the burn pits drifted low across the basin, masking the scent of blood. Scouts rotated in tight intervals. No beast approached the trenches. The plains were eerily still.
That silence made the tremor all the more jarring.
A sharp quake rippled through Blackridge's southern ridge, sending dust and loose shale tumbling into the trenches. Somewhere beyond the ridge, steam vents roared awake, spewing columns of white mist into the sky.
Kael met Riku at the south gate, concern etched across his features. "Volcanic shift. Probably cracked a new vent line."
"Or something cleared the tunnels," Riku muttered.
Either way, it meant their western flank was weaker than before. He adjusted the defense grid manually, redirecting heat flow toward the vulnerable ridge.
"Double night patrol. Take no chances," he ordered.
Night approached faster than it should have, shadows lengthening across the cracked earth. The second night of the Blood Moon would bring more. Creatures that learned. Creatures that adapted.
But for now, Blackridge stood.
Riku walked the walls one final time before dusk, the forge-light at his back. He passed by the egg chamber, where the strange obsidian egg rested in its heat cradle. It hadn't cracked further, but he could feel something inside, waiting.
Soon.
Beyond the walls, the volcanic mist drifted low and thick. And somewhere past the ridge, another sovereign waited, silent and unseen.
They hadn't found each other yet.
But when they did, the Blood Moon wouldn't be enough to hide behind.
Riku turned back toward the forge, leaving the broken watches to guard the night.