The Price of the Long Night

After the cheers died down, reality pressed in again.

In the casualty ward below the tower, gravely wounded soldiers whose limbs had been sawed off let out low, strangled moans. The sound climbed the cold stone walls and burrowed into every ear.

Shien turned his back on the others. "Read it."

The scribe swallowed, tasting blood. His teeth were still chattering. "The outer ring of the Inner Fortress is destroyed. Only one-fifth of our Refined Steel arrows remain. Sacred Flame Grease reserves have fallen below the warning line, to less than one-quarter."

As the numbers sank in, the platform fell silent. Only the sound of heavier breathing remained.

The price was too steep. Even Shien did not know what to say.

He turned his head toward the distance. Blackpine Fief's outer defenses had been transformed beyond recognition.

The Rending Fang Trench of the First Ring and the Groundspike Formation of the Second Ring were filled with the bodies of Demonic Beasts and their own warriors. Their original shapes were gone.

At the heart of the fire zones from the Third Ring through the Fifth Ring, the heat had melted through the dark-purple permafrost along with tens of thousands of Demonic Beast corpses.

The ground had since cooled into a hard, dark red crust streaked with black, though scorching heat still lingered around its edges.

All four heavy Rune Steam Repeating Crossbows atop the salient bunkers were crippled. Dozens of ordinary Rune Steam Repeating Crossbows had been lost as well.

With so much Sacred Flame Grease consumed, the platinum halo's suppression radius would keep shrinking.

The safe sightline ahead of the defenses would shrink with it.

The next wave of Mutants squeezing out of the Gray Fog would no longer have to cross that whole killing ground swept by fire. They