At the battlements of Minas Tirith's outer wall, the sea wind carried a damp, briny tang, making the torches snap and flutter.
Thomas, a recruit who had enlisted only six months earlier, leaned against a rough merlon and struggled to light a cheap tobacco roll.
It took three strikes of his flint to produce a spark, and he hurriedly brought the roll to it.
The tobacco had barely caught, and he had yet to exhale a smoke ring, when a strange vibration passed through the stone beneath his feet.
It was not the rise and fall of waves striking the fortress.
It was a deeper, more regular pulse.
Thump...
The smoke ring trembled at his lips and dissolved.
Thump...
The sound seemed to come from deep within the earth, traveling up the stone wall into his heels.
The veteran beside him spat out the grass root in his mouth and pressed his ear to the wall, the scar on his face twisting.
"Here we fucking go again." The veteran's voice was hoarse with irritation.
Thomas tightened his grip on the tobacco roll, its burning tip scorching his fingers.
"Boss, what exactly is that noise? They say... those monsters in the sea are digging tunnels beneath our feet."
"Shut up," the veteran snapped under his breath. "Keep watch and don't believe that bullshit."
Despite his words, he instinctively tightened his own grip on the sword at his waist.
The sound had persisted for two days.
What had begun as a barely perceptible vibration was now clearly audible.
Like the damp sea wind that found its way into every crack, panic had already seeped throughout the fortress.
Inside the Alchemy Workshop, a wave of heat mingled with the pungent smell of chemicals hit them.
Wearing a monocle, Valerius carefully adjusted a brass