But the shining reinforcements had not been idle.
The skirted warriors began advancing under artillery cover. Not charging blindly. Walking. Measured.
When Sapphire volleys struck them, many fell. But many did not.
The light around their skin hardened on impact. Not shields like Jasper's.
Something else. Density.
When Emerald's projected spears pierced their ranks, some shattered cleanly through.
Others lodged only halfway, slowed as if cutting into compressed stone.
They were not invincible.
But they were resilient in a way the former groups had not been.
And they did not flinch under explosion.
---
By midyear, the battlefield looked permanently scarred.
The Free Space between them was no longer smooth ground. It was cratered. Blackened. Glassed in places from repeated aura detonation and blasted ballistas.
Some areas smoked continuously from buried emery fragments that refused to die. This was no longer a clean line between two terrains. It was a wound.
---
