Chapter 38: The First Attack

The sun rose timidly on the horizon, tinting the sky with shades of pink and orange. The shadows of the night slowly dissipated, revealing the city in its final preparations. The inhabitants moved with restrained energy, aware that this could be the last peaceful dawn they would see for a long time.

On the walls, the archers and soldiers took their positions, alert for the slightest sign of movement on the horizon. The old man and the war mage stood side by side, observing the landscape ahead. They knew the enemy was approaching, but the wait was agonizing.

Suddenly, a shout echoed from one of the watchtowers. One of the scouts was returning, running towards the city, his face marked by fear and exhaustion. "They're coming!" he shouted, breathless. "A horde... gigantic!"

The old man exchanged a quick glance with the mage before giving the orders. "Everyone to position! Don't let them get close to the walls!"

The bells began to toll, alerting the city. Men and women rushed to their posts, while children and the elderly were herded into underground shelters. The old man felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, but his determination was unshakable.

The mage raised his hands, muttering words in an ancient language. From each of the strategic points he had prepared the night before, a bright light emanated, forming an invisible barrier around the city. It was the first line of defense, designed to confuse and disorient the enemy.

Soon, the sound of war drums echoed across the valley. The enemy finally appeared on the horizon, a chaotic mass of soldiers and siege engines. The old man knew this would be a tough battle, but there was no time to hesitate.

"Remember," he shouted to the soldiers on the walls, "fight for your families, for your homes! Don't let them pass!"

The first enemies advanced, but upon reaching the magical barrier, they stumbled and became disorganized, as if a dense fog had blinded their eyes. The archers took advantage of the moment of confusion to launch their arrows, which fell upon the enemy soldiers like a deadly rain.

But the barrier would not last forever. The wizard continued to cast his spells, but the effort required to maintain the defense was visible on his face, which began to contort in pain. "I will not be able to hold them back for much longer!" he warned.

The old man nodded, already anticipating the moment when the battle would become physical. "Prepare the spears! The battle is about to begin!"

And indeed, when the barrier finally gave way, the enemy horde charged with all its might. The walls shook with the impact of the siege engines, and the entire city seemed to pulse with the sound of combat.

The old man drew his sword, his eyes fixed on the approaching enemy line. He was not only a leader, but also a seasoned warrior, and he knew that his place was on the front lines.

"For our lands, for our people!" he shouted, and with a war cry, he threw himself into battle alongside his soldiers.

The first impact was brutal. Swords clashed, screams of pain and rage echoed across the battlefield, but the old man did not retreat. He fought with the strength of someone who knew there was no other option. Every blow was precise, every move calculated.

Beside him, the wizard continued to cast spells, creating blasts of fire and lightning that devastated the enemy ranks. But the wear and tear was clear, and the old man knew that they could not count on magic for much longer.

The battle intensified, and the old man felt that the end was near. The forces were evenly matched, and the fate of the city hung by a thread.

But he knew that as long as there was even one man standing, as long as the spirit of resistance remained, there was hope. And with that conviction he continued to fight, determined to defend his land to his last breath.