"Fireball!"
As the mighty giants raised their bone clubs and smashed them against the solid city walls, making the ground beneath everyone's feet tremble without cease, Kandelian tore off another tumor from his arm, crushed the Plague Source-tainted blood into spellcasting material, and hurled it fiercely at the foot of the wall.
The Spellcasters scattered across the walls rushed to imitate him, and the roars and explosions ruptured far too many eardrums.
Everyone atop the walls felt the noise and screams fade away, leaving only a shrill ringing in their ears.
In an instant, it seemed as if nothing else remained in the guards' world but the Beastfolk climbing onto the battlements.
Either blind them with spears or die beneath their axes.
Reserves continuously took their places on the walls, holding the invaders within that tiny stretch of battlement.
Though they had stopped them from advancing another inch, no one knew how long they could hold on.
Their disadvantage in numbers meant they were doomed to fail in a prolonged war of attrition.
Days of assembly had allowed the Beastfolk to form an immeasurable army. They were a vast population that had multiplied for centuries amid the cracks of the Great Desert. Just as they had once broken through the defenses of the Southern Great Wall, they now placed immense pressure upon Wind Sand Islet's defenses.
They were determined to shatter this last patch of pure land in the south and turn Wind Sand Islet's hundreds of thousands of people into breeding pens and food for their invasion.
This was their first step toward gaining a foothold in the south, and the Beastfolk's resolve was no weaker than that of the guards defending the city.
Thinking of this, Damon called down a bolt of lightning from the sky and hurled