The retreat from the gates was chaotic, the soldiers of Eagle's Reach struggling to fall back while still holding off the Xavarians. Kayl's heart pounded in his chest as he watched his forces pull back toward the inner walls of the settlement. They had bought some time, but not enough. The Xavarians were pressing forward, relentless in their advance.
Kayl stood atop the ramparts, his eyes darting across the battlefield. His soldiers were fighting bravely, but the weight of the enemy's numbers was crushing. The archers on the walls continued to rain arrows down on the advancing Xavarians, but even as they fired, more enemy soldiers pushed through the gates.
Rael was at the front lines, cutting down enemy soldiers with every swing of his sword, but even he was starting to slow, the exhaustion of battle weighing on him. Tessa had retreated to a higher position, her arrows flying with deadly accuracy, but the Xavarian force seemed endless.
"We can't hold them like this," Rael shouted as he fell back toward the inner walls. "They're going to break through again."
Kayl's mind raced. He had to do something. They couldn't afford to lose the settlement, not after everything they had built.
"Shadowblades, now!" Kayl shouted, turning toward the group of dark-clad assassins lurking in the shadows.
The Shadowblades moved like phantoms, slipping through the chaos of the battlefield to strike at the Xavarian officers. They cut down several enemy captains in quick succession, throwing the Xavarian lines into temporary disarray. But even their efforts weren't enough to stop the relentless advance.
Kayl's heart sank as he watched the Xavarians regroup, their forces surging forward with renewed energy. The breach in the gates had become a flood, and his soldiers were struggling to hold them back.
Desperation on the Walls
On the ramparts, Kayl could see the desperation on his soldiers' faces. The archers were running low on arrows, and the spearmen at the inner walls were being pushed back step by step. The knights, who had charged so valiantly earlier, were now surrounded, their numbers dwindling as they were overwhelmed by the sheer force of the Xavarians.
"They're everywhere!" Tessa shouted from her perch, her bow still firing into the fray. "We're losing ground!"
Kayl's grip tightened on the hilt of his sword. They had fought so hard, but it wasn't enough. The Xavarians were too strong, too organized. His soldiers were brave, but they were being worn down, their defenses crumbling under the pressure.
As the Xavarians surged forward again, Kayl's heart sank. His forces were scattered, disorganized, and the enemy was closing in from all sides.
"Fall back to the keep!" Rael shouted, his voice barely audible over the clamor of battle.
Kayl's mind raced, but he knew it was the only option left. "Everyone, fall back!"
The Brink of Defeat
The retreat to the keep was chaotic. The Xavarians were relentless, their soldiers cutting down Kayl's forces as they fell back. The inner walls had been breached, and now the enemy was pressing into the heart of Eagle's Reach.
Kayl fought desperately, his sword flashing as he cut through the enemy soldiers. But even as he fought, he could feel the weight of defeat pressing down on him. His soldiers were falling, one by one, their defenses shattered.
In the chaos, Kayl found himself surrounded, the Xavarian soldiers closing in on him. His breath came in ragged gasps as he swung his sword, cutting down the soldiers who tried to reach him. But there were too many of them. He couldn't keep fighting like this.
For the first time, the thought of defeat entered his mind. They were going to lose.
The settlement would fall.
Just as Kayl's strength began to wane, and the Xavarian soldiers pressed in from all sides, a deafening roar echoed across the battlefield, louder than anything Kayl had heard before. The ground shook beneath his feet, and for a moment, everything seemed to stop—the clash of steel, the cries of the wounded, the roar of battle.
Kayl's breath caught in his throat as he looked toward the horizon.
Something—or someone—was coming.