Rajwak's palace was in chaos.
Guards ran in every direction, their boots echoing endlessly across the marble floors.
Explosions at the northern gate shook the windows violently… as if the fortress itself might collapse.
King Victor stood in the center of the hall, yanking his robe around him, tension etched on his face, fury burning in his eyes.
He shouted at the officer standing before him:
"What's happening out there?! Can't you stop them from the towers?!"
The officer, Diran, bent low and spoke quickly.
"My lord… they have weapons we don't understand. We saw fire striking the towers from impossibly far away."
Victor slammed his fist against the throne.
"Then fight! Do whatever it takes!"
Diran shook his head in despair.
"My lord… the towers are destroyed. There's no one left on the walls."
Victor froze.
"What are you saying?!"
Then he gritted his teeth, voice sharp and commanding:
"Bring Cyrus immediately! If anyone can stop this madness… it's him!"
Diran sprinted out of the hall.
The king paced among the statues and treasures, muttering angry words about the losses, the palace trembling with each explosion.
Diran returned minutes later, his face tense.
"My lord… Cyrus isn't in his cell. He's escaped."
A heavy silence fell before Victor shouted,
"Escaped?! Search for him everywhere! He can't have gotten far!"
Before he could finish, another guard burst into the hall, panting.
"My lord! The people are gathering in the square… they're demanding you act!"
Victor gestured nervously.
"Find Cyrus! That's the only thing that matters now!"
At that moment, a violent explosion shook the palace to its core.
A marble vase toppled, shattering into pieces.
The screams of people outside grew loud and horrifying.
The king stepped back, sank onto his throne, clutching his head with both hands, whispering in a broken voice:
"My God… where have I brought myself? What have I done?"
-----
The wind howled violently over the wall.
Cyrus stood atop, blood mixed with sweat running down his forehead as he lit another arrow with flickering flames.
Below, Rick's eyes widened. He shouted at the top of his lungs:
"Fall back! Move farther!"
The mercenaries surged backward, running away from the gate… and from a hundred cannons that had suddenly appeared along the wall.
Rick's mind raced as he ran:
Their cannons are old… short range. If we keep our distance, they can't reach us. We'll strike them from safety.
On the wall, Cyrus wiped the blood with his hand and hissed sharply:
"I won't let you escape…"
He shot a flaming arrow into the sky.
Nothing happened.
Rick spun around.
"Why didn't they fire?!"
His eyes widened. He froze for a moment… then shouted at the top of his lungs:
"Stop—stop now!"
Some men halted, but the rest didn't hear Riek's scream… and kept running straight into the trap.
Then…
The ground shook.
It wasn't a sound—it was a deep shock that ripped through the soil.
Sand and stones shot into the air, and the earth split open beneath his troops.
A whole trench erupted under their feet.
Some fell inside, crushed by debris and pressure before they could scream, and the following cracks swallowed the rest.
Rick lifted his head toward the wall, anger tightening the muscles of his face.
He didn't waste a second.
He waved his hand sharply, and his men immediately understood the signal, splitting into two groups and running in opposite directions to get out of the cannons' range.
Rick yanked the communicator from his pocket and pressed the button without hesitation, his voice panting from running and shock:
"Sereen! It's bad! Every step… a new trap! We're completely surrounded—waiting for the cannons to finish us!"
A heavy silence fell.
Then Sereen's voice came:
"I'm on my way."
On the wall, Cyrus watched the troops split. He muttered coldly:
"Splitting the soldiers? Won't change a thing…"
He lit two arrows at once and shot them into the sky.
Moments later…
The wall shook with a deafening roar as a hundred ancient cannons fired at once, hurling stones and fire toward the retreating mercenaries.
Chaos erupted across the ground. Men ran, debris rained over their heads, flames blocking every direction.
A projectile veered toward Rick. The explosion was so close—the blast itself lifting him off his horse. He crashed violently, tumbling across dirt and rubble.
He tried to get up… but his arm betrayed him. He screamed in pain, unable to move it. He fell again, blood covering him.
On the wall, Cyrus stood, watching the fiery chaos unfold beneath him. He gripped his bow tightly, his voice low and decisive:
"I will take you down… one by one."
But Rick wasn't done yet.
He struggled to his feet, swaying, pressing his broken arm with his good hand. His eyes never left the wall.
He muttered through clenched teeth, pain threatening to drag him down:
"We… need… to buy time…"
Slowly, he raised his good hand, then shouted with all the strength left in his chest:
"Fire on him!"
Cyrus spotted the movement immediately.
He didn't hesitate. He lit two arrows with wild speed and fired them downward.
At that same moment… the cannons thundered from both sides.
Rajwak's ancient cannons hurled stones and fire at the mercenaries,
while the modern Jordvian artillery retaliated with a fierce hail of light.
The projectiles collided in midair, shaking the ground beneath them.
The cannon storm raged for a full two hours—
no one dared take a step… no one dared even blink.
Suddenly…
a massive sound tore through the night sky, shattering the silence and reaching every corner of the kingdom—from the crumbling palace to the battlefield.
Everyone looked up.
A brief smile crossed Rick's face, and he murmured softly:
"Finally… she's here."
On the wall, Cyrus's eyes widened, his shock almost unreal. He muttered in broken words:
"Impossible… this can't… am I… dreaming?!"
A massive, colossal ship glided slowly and steadily above their heads.
The roar of its engines was deafening. Its design wasn't of this world… it looked like a piece of living technological hell.
And at the edge of the ship… stood Sereen.