Dawn came dull and cold over the Ashen Road. The army from Stonecross moved north in silence, boots and hooves striking in the same rhythm. The rows held firm—shields built from wagon boards, spears hammered from farm steel. Between them the faint hum of Bloomscript drifted, each breath matching the next, men and beasts moving as one.
The ridge ahead rose into Fort Gairn's gray silhouette. Behind the army, wagons had been drawn into a rough barricade — the wagon wall. Refugees huddled there, eyes fixed on the march.
Eda stood on one of the wagons, hand gripping the frame to steady herself.
"They're marching on it," she whispered. "All the way to the wall."
Tira's voice came quiet through the cold.
"They were farmers a month ago. Now look — even the beasts step in time with them. It's like the wagons birthed an army."
At the front stood Stonehide, armor plates dull with dust. Rhino pawed the ground beside it, head low, steam rising from its nostrils. Feyra's glow pulsed steady through the middle ranks, blossoms drifting like sparks. Above, Mira's falcon wheeled sharp and silent, and higher still, Zor circled — arcs of lightning faint under cloud.
The fortress stirred. Chains clattered. Ogres, bulls, and wolves strained at bindings. On the parapet, handlers raised rods glowing red.
"Chains hold! Rods never break!" they shouted.
The chant came back hollow, fear thin under the words.
From the keep, Dorn watched without speaking.
The first volley came down — black arrows cutting through mist. Shields locked. The sound of shafts hitting wood and steel rolled like rain on roofs. Brenn's gravel voice broke through.
"Keep the wagons locked behind! The line holds or the road dies here!"
Stonehide advanced, shrugging off the next volley. Rhino followed, striking the ground in heavy rhythm.
"On the stomp," a captain yelled, "press the wall!"
Rhino hit. The wagon wall shuddered with the force, the ground jumping beneath their boots. Joran's hammer struck once in rhythm, a signal — the second line surged. Feyra's glow washed over shackled wolves on the ridge; their eyes dulled and heads dropped as Bloomscript squads pressed forward.
Behind the wagons, the refugees crouched low but did not run.
Sana held Marrek's arm tight. "They'll be crushed. No line stands against stone."
Marrek's knuckles whitened. "Walls fall same as men. They just take longer."
The air changed. Zor screamed above, and the storm screamed back. Lightning tore through cloud and struck the rampart. Shackler rods flared and shattered, handlers screaming as sparks caught their faces. Beasts broke loose. Wolves leapt the parapet, bulls tore chains apart. The Dominion formation fractured.
Draven moved into the breach. His sword crackled with stormlight, every swing shattering metal. Shackles fell open. Freed servitors pushed forward at his side. Rhino struck the gate again — the hinges burst, iron bending inward.
Zor's next dive broke the rest. The fortress wall opened like clay hit by thunder.
The refugees behind the wagon wall saw the gate crumble.
Eda's breath caught. "They're inside… gods, they're inside."
Tira pressed her sleeve to her mouth, eyes wide. "The storm's not killing them — it's following them."
Inside the fort, beasts met beasts. Stonehide slammed into ogres. Rhino locked horns with warbulls. Feyra's blossoms blanketed wolves that stopped mid-charge and lay still. Mira's falcon clashed with raptors in the air until feathers burned.
Then Zor fell through the clouds in a blaze of light, his Sovereign Strike turning half the rampart into dust and lightning.
Draven's blade cut through the last shackler rod. A handler fell to his knees, staring as the light faded from the weapon in his hands. Brenn's voice carried across the yard:
"Take surrender when it's given. Cut down those who kill beasts!"
Bloomscript squads climbed the rubble, shields still tight, moving as one. Dominion soldiers dropped spears or died where they stood. Some beasts turned and fled into the hills. Others stood beside the Stonecross line, silent and breathing heavy.
From the wagons, Marrek lowered his spear. "Stone broke."
Sana stared at the fortress, voice hollow. "Fort Gairn… it's fallen. Even Fort Gairn."
On the wall, Dorn stood in the wind. His cloak hung torn; dust streaked his face. An officer stumbled to him.
"My lord, shall we counter—"
"Fall back," Dorn said. "Hold what's left. Leave the rest."
The storm drained itself into silence. Rain hissed over stone.
Draven stood at the shattered gate, smoke drifting around his boots.
Rhino stamped once. Stonehide bowed its head. Feyra's glow flickered faint and calm.
From the wagon wall, the refugees watched him — one man and his beasts against the ruin.
Eda whispered, "Even Fort Gairn broke."
Tira nodded. "Then the Dominion will break next."
Thunder rolled off into the hills, carrying the scent of rain and burnt iron.
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