Day 27 – Dawn
A heavy silence loomed over the camp as the first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon. The settlers stood at their positions—some gripping weapons with white-knuckled hands, others adjusting their armor. The anticipation of battle settled in their bones.
Alexander stood atop the watchtower, eyes fixed on the southern road. In the distance, a slow-moving mass of bodies and steel advanced toward them. The Baron's forces had arrived.
Behind him, Gareth's voice rumbled, "They march in formation. Disciplined. No sign of hesitation."
Elias, standing near the barricade below, let out a low whistle. "That's more men than I was hoping to see."
Tyrell adjusted the straps on his bracers. "Doesn't matter. We've got the home advantage. They're stepping into our kill zone."
Alexander's jaw tightened. He turned to Silas, who stood by with a calculating expression. "Their scouts?"
Silas shook his head. "None have returned. They won't know what's waiting for them."
Alexander nodded. "Then let's welcome them properly."
The Ambush Begins
The Baron's vanguard moved into the outer perimeter of the settlement, the narrow forest path forcing them to advance in tight ranks. The moment the first line stepped into position, Alexander gave the signal.
A dozen arrows whistled through the air, striking the exposed front of the Baron's forces. Several men collapsed instantly, cries of pain shattering the morning stillness.
"Shields up!" a lieutenant barked, and the soldiers quickly adjusted their formation, raising their wooden shields to protect themselves.
"Now," Alexander ordered.
Tyrell, Elias, and their strike team emerged from the trees like wraiths, descending upon the disoriented soldiers with brutal efficiency. Spears pierced through gaps in armor, blades slashed at unprotected flesh, and chaos erupted in the Baron's ranks.
Elias ducked under a wild swing, his sword cutting deep into a man's side. "How's that for a warm-up?" he shouted over the din of battle.
Tyrell lunged forward, slamming a soldier to the ground and driving his spear through his throat. "Keep them unbalanced!" he barked. "Hit hard, disappear fast!"
The hit-and-run tactics worked. The Baron's men, unused to such skirmishes, faltered, struggling to maintain formation.
But they adapted fast.
"Regroup! Advance!" came the commanding order from deeper in their ranks. More soldiers pushed forward, shields interlocking as they slowly forced their way toward the barricades.
Alexander clenched his jaw. "Fall back before they regain control!"
Tyrell and Elias's squads retreated into the trees as the Baron's forces pressed forward, leaving behind a trail of their dead and wounded.
The first clash had bloodied them, but the Baron's army kept coming.
The Assault on the Barricades
By mid-morning, the Baron's forces had reached the main defenses. They stood at the foot of the wooden barricades, shields locked in tight formations.
Gareth and Marcus led the defenders on the walls, gripping spears and bows as they prepared for the onslaught.
"They'll hit hard," Gareth muttered, tightening his grip on his hammer. "Let's see how long they last."
A captain among the Baron's men raised his sword. "Charge!"
With a roar, the first wave surged forward.
The defenders responded with a rain of arrows and spears. More soldiers fell, but the Baron's forces pressed on, slamming into the barricades with sheer brute force. Axes and swords hacked at the wooden structure, while others threw ropes and hooks to climb over.
Alexander moved swiftly along the defenses, striking down those who managed to climb. A soldier hauled himself over the barricade, only for Alexander's spear to pierce his chest, sending him tumbling back down.
To his left, Gareth swung his hammer in a vicious arc, caving in the skull of an enemy soldier who had breached the wall. "Hold the line!" he bellowed.
A warhorn sounded from the Baron's side, and fresh reinforcements surged forward, carrying makeshift ladders.
"They're adapting," Silas muttered grimly. "They'll be over the walls soon."
Alexander took a deep breath. "Then it's time to change the battlefield."
The Fire Trap
As the Baron's men grew more aggressive, pushing their way up the ladders and tearing at the barricades, Alexander raised his hand and shouted the order.
"Now!"
Behind the barricades, hidden among the structures, men set fire to oil-soaked straw bundles. Within seconds, flames erupted, spreading quickly along the trenches Alexander had prepared days prior.
The fire ignited along the base of the barricades, creating a sudden wall of flame that forced the Baron's men back in a panic. Soldiers screamed as they were engulfed, while others scrambled away to avoid the spreading inferno.
The attack ground to a halt.
Marcus grinned, wiping sweat from his brow. "That'll slow them down."
But Alexander wasn't convinced. He turned to Silas. "The Baron's smart. He won't stop here."
Silas nodded. "No. He'll send in his elites next."
The Baron's Next Move
From the safety of a distant hill, the Baron watched the battlefield unfold with cold calculation. His forces had taken losses, but the defenses wouldn't hold forever.
Beside him, Captain Darius observed with a deep frown. "They're more prepared than we expected."
The Baron didn't look away. "They had time. That changes nothing."
He turned to a heavily armored unit standing nearby—his elite soldiers, men trained for war and siege alike.
"Take the left flank," he ordered. "Break through their defenses and drive them into the open."
The warriors nodded, moving into formation.
The Baron's lips curled into a smirk. "Let's see how long their fire keeps them safe."
As night fell over the battlefield, the flames flickered in the darkness, a temporary barrier between the Baron's forces and the settlement.
Alexander stood at the barricades, staring at the enemy camp in the distance. He could feel it in his bones.
The real battle was only beginning.