ENGAGEMENT

The first light of dawn over Ormas was not one of peace.
It was a grey, hazy illumination that revealed the full scope of the demonic horde encamped outside the city walls.
They were a sea of grotesque forms, a tide of black chitin and jagged iron that stretched for miles.
The respite we had earned was over; they were regrouping, their rage palpable even from the harbour walls.

We stood in the city's battered council chambers, the air thick with the dust of crumbling plaster.
Before us stood Mayor Theron, a man whose fine robes were torn and stained.

"They have been at our walls for a month," the mayor said, his voice hoarse. "We have held, but barely. Our militia is decimated, our food stores are dwindling. Your arrival was a miracle, Lord Regent, but it is one miracle against a legion."

Tulote, however, was not looking at the mayor.
His gaze was fixed on a large, detailed map of the city spread across the table, his mind was probably already moving pieces on a chessboard only he could see.

"A legion without a head is just a mob," Tulote stated. "They have numbers, but we have a fortified position, superior discipline, and superior strategy."

His thick finger tapped the map.

"Mayor, your knowledge is our sharpest blade. The Greater Demon commands from the old citadel, correct?"

"Yes," Theron confirmed. "It has desecrated the governor's palace. Its presence is a blight that saps the will of my men."

"Good." Tulote's finger slid across the map. "Cassandra, your scouting confirmed their main supply train comes from the east, along the old Imperial road?"

"That's right," Cassandra affirmed. "A constant stream of reinforcements and siege materials."

"And their primary staging ground for assaults is the ruined temple district in the south-east quadrant?"

"Yes. They muster there before every major push."

Tulote looked up. his eyes sweeping over us all, the Lord War Master in his element.

"Then our course is clear. We do not wait for their next assault. We dismantle the siege, piece by piece. We will launch a three-pronged counter-offensive, timed to the second. We will not give them a moment to react."

He laid out the plan with breathtaking clarity.
It was aggressive, precise, and relied on the unique strengths of every asset at his disposal.

"Triton," he began, "you will take a party of your best gunners and riggers. You will not attack the supply line; you will annihilate it. I want that road PERMANENTLY closed."

"Cassandra, Arda," he turned to us, "the two of you listen closely. The citadel is too well-defended for a frontal assault, but its commander's power relies on a circle of elite, soul-flaying guards. They patrol the outer sanctum. I want you to infiltrate the upper city and eliminate them. Sow fear in the heart of their command. Without his guard, the demon is vulnerable."

"And you, my lord?" Mayor Theron asked.

A grim smile touched Tulote's lips.

"I will take our marines and your militia, and I will lead them in a direct assault on their staging ground in the temple district. While they are reeling from the loss of their supply line and the chaos in their command, I will deliver the hammer blow."

—

The city moved as one.
While Triton's demolition team slipped out through a hidden sea-gate, and Tulote mustered the weary but resolute militia in the main plaza, Cassandra and I began our ascent into the upper city.
The journey was a silent one, as we carried on through rubble-strewn alleyways and across the rooftops of desecrated villas.

Our communication was almost entirely non-verbal.
A shared glance from across a courtyard was enough to coordinate a takedown of two demonic sentries.
A slight pressure from her hand on my back as we crouched in the shadows indicated to me to hold my position.
We trusted each other with our lives.
Life and death were measured in the space of a heartbeat, and in that space, we were completely in sync.

We found the first of the elite guards near a desecrated fountain.
It was a tall, wraith-like creature, its form shifting and indistinct.
As it passed beneath a stone archway, Cassandra looked at me and simply nodded towards the structure.
I understood.
Focusing my will, I perceived the threads of the ancient stone, finding the key glyph that maintained its integrity.
With a mental nudge, I weakened it.
Cassandra, already in motion, ran up a collapsed wall with innate stealth and fluidity.
Just as the wraith passed under the arch, she landed atop it, her added weight just enough to cause the weakened structure to collapse, crushing the creature under tons of rock.

As we moved on, a second guard, alerted by the noise, phased into view directly behind me, its chilling claws reaching for my neck.
I sensed the disturbance in the threads of reality a split-second before it fully materialized.
I didn't have time to turn.

"Arda!" 

Cassandra's warning was sharp.

I dropped, rolling forward as she threw her rapier like a javelin.
The blade, wreathed in shadow-stuff, passed through the space my head had just occupied and pierced the demon through its core.
It shrieked, dissolving into black smoke.

I rose to my feet, my heart pounding.

"Thanks. I owe you one."

She retrieved her blade, her expression unreadable in the dim light.

"Just stay alive to repay it."

Our hunt was silent, brutal, and efficient.
We worked as two halves of a single blade, my perception guiding her lethal grace.
I saw a flaw in a demon's energy shield; she was already moving to exploit it.
She drew the attention of one guard; I was already flanking it to deliver the final blow.
In the quiet moments between encounters, hiding in the shell of a burned-out library, I found myself watching her.
The way she moved, the focused intensity in her eyes, the surprising softness that would appear for but a fleeting moment.
The feelings I had carefully buried with my wife, Kathuria, were stirring in a way that was both terrifying and undeniably hopeful.

-

Simultaneously, at the southern edge of the city, Tulote unleashed himself.
He stood before the combined force of the Maw's marines and the Ormas militia, his Flamma burning brightly in his hand.

"For too long, these beasts have chipped away at our homes!" he roared. "Today, we show them what happens when the men and women of the Imperium push back! Today, we remind them why this world is named for Erton! FOR ORMAS! FOR THE IMPERIUM!"

He charged, and they followed, a wave of desperate, furious valour.
Tulote was a demigod of war.
He didn't just fight; he controlled the battlefield.
With a stomp of his foot, a wall of earth erupted, shielding his troops from a volley of demonic fire.
With a sweep of his arm, the cobblestones themselves churned, creating a fissure that swallowed a charging behemoth whole.
He funnelled the demonic horde into kill zones, using his powers to shape the terrain, turning the open temple grounds into a meat grinder that his soldiers could exploit. 
The militia, who had been on the verge of collapse, fought with the strength of lions, inspired by the sight of their Lord Regent tearing through the enemy ranks like a living calamity.

At that exact moment, a colossal explosion rocked the mountains to the east.
Triton's team had reached the supply road.
The riggers had used their expertise to scale the cliffs and plant the Terracane charges at key geological weak points.
The resulting landslide was apocalyptic, burying the road and a thousand demons under a mountain of rock and earth.
The siege army's lifeline was severed.

The death of the Greater Demon Ghor'ath was almost anticlimactic, and he was supposed to be the strongest of them all, if Abaddon's word was anything to go by.
With his elite guard eliminated, his supply line cut, and his primary staging ground being systematically dismantled by Tulote, he was isolated and blind.
When we finally breached the citadel, we found him roaring in fury, his power still immense but untethered.

The fight was a blur of focused teamwork.
I used my power not to attack him directly, but to defend and disrupt.
I wove threads of Order to create shimmering shields that deflected his bolts of chaotic energy.
I reached out and subtly twisted the essence of the ground beneath his feet, causing him to stumble at a critical moment.

Every action was designed to create an opening, and Cassandra took every single one.
She danced around his wild swings, her rapier a flash of silver.
She used the walls, the shadows, the very air, confusing the enemy.
While he was focused on me, a blade of pure shadow would slice a tendon.
While he turned to her, I would cause his armour to momentarily lose its integrity.
We bled him, weakened him, frustrated him, until finally, in a desperate lunge at me, he overextended.

That was the only chance she needed.
She phased directly behind him, her entire arm plunged into a shroud of darkness, and drove her blade straight through his back and out his chest, piercing the corrupted heart of his being.
Ghor'ath froze, a look of utter shock on his monstrous face, before collapsing and dissolving into a torrent of foul-smelling ash.

With his death, the psychic pressure over the city lifted.
The remaining demonic forced, leaderless, cut-off, and besieged themselves, broke into a panicked rout.
The battle for Ormas was over.

—

Later that evening, we met with Mayor Theron in his office.
The room was a mess, but a map of the Western territories was laid out, clean and pristine.

"Ormas owes you its life," the mayor said, bowing deeply. "We have little to offer, but what we have is yours. Supplies, guides who know the mountain passes... anything." He pointed to the map. "The Neoth Range is a brutal, unforgiving land. The First Company is garrisoned in the ancient half-human fortress of Kaelen's Peak. The demons have them pinned in the valley below. No army has ever successfully laid siege to that fortress, which is why the demons have chosen to simply starve them out, all while being led by Dietha's most cunning general."

As he spoke, my mind drifted. 
We had won.
Another city saved.
But the cost, the faces of the dead, the memory of Yui... it was always there.

Later, I found Cassandra and Tulote on the high battlements, looking out not at the smoldering ruins of the demon camp, but east, towards the jagged black peaks of the Neoth Range.
The sky was clear now, the smoke gone, and the stars were brilliant.

"Kaelin's Peak, that's where we go next."

"A fortress that's never been taken, besieged by Dietha's best general," I replied, standing inbetween them, "sounds like a challange."

"Everything with you is a challenge, Arda," she chuckled.

"I need a drink after all this. You two fancy to join me?"

"Sure thing you old geezer." Cassandra said.

"Anytime man, anytime."