Captain Marwen Hale wiped her hammer clean against the patchy, torn skin of what remained on the bones of the corpse at her feet.

The undead collapsed properly this time, not even sounding a final rasp as it went from a state of undeath to that of proper and true death.

"Clear!" someone shouted.

Marwen straightened and swept her gaze across the alley. Sixteen bodies down. The mixing of rotting stench and binding salts hit her nostrils at once, making the captain wrinkle her nose.

"Disgusting…" she muttered.

Her squad regrouped instinctively.

All ten of them.

"Everyone is still breathing," she nodded proudly. "Good."

A few tight smiles answered her. There was no cheering, no real relief on any of their faces. How could there be? They were fighting on the outskirts of humanity's border against the Elvardian siege, who had undead helping them.

Things were incredibly dire.

Wind rolled through the broken street, carrying heat and ash.

Marwen frowned.

"That's strange," she muttered, tilting her head. "The Elvardian siege effort stopped."

Her lieutenant glanced up from reloading and began pondering. "Hmm… you're right… There should be pressure. Horns. Artillery fire."

Marwen scanned the rooftops. "Did we push them back?"

Silence answered.

Then a voice, thin and unsure.

"C-Captain…"

Marwen turned.

The man was staring past her, eyes locked on the skyline.

"I don't see the barrier."

Her stomach sank.

"What?"

She spun slowly.

He was right.

The faint shimmer that had wrapped the settlement like a second sky as soon as the first sign of attack became evident was gone.

They had been fighting blind, too focused on killing the undead.

"Positions," Marwen snapped. "I want eyes up-"

She stopped herself.

No. She needed to see this herself.

Marwen vaulted onto a collapsed awning, then climbed the rest of the way with practiced ease. She pulled herself onto the rooftop and stood.

The border town of Greyhaven spread out beneath her.

And it was wrong.

So incredibly wrong.

The defenses were supposed to face east. Trenches. Emplacements. Kill corridors designed to break an Elvardian push into their walls.

Instead, there was a wound.

An entire district had been flattened into a shallow crater, buildings crushed inward as if something had struck from above and folded the city into itself. Stone was powdered. Streets had ceased to exist.

Defensive towers were gone, not broken, simply absent.

"What in the Goddess's name…" Marwen whispered. "How did we not hear whatever caused this?!"

"We did…" her lieutenant said with a pale face after he jumped up next to her. "I thought these sounds came from a new giant cannon of the dwarves, their newest technology."

"Right…" Marwen remembered now, too. The deafening sound, which they ignored, trusting their allies on the walls to deal with it. Everyone had their tasks, and Marwen and her squad had to clean up the streets so the engineers, mages, and rangers could focus on defending the walls.

"But… Based on the angle of this devastation, the attack came from inside." Marwen's assistant was confused.

They all were.

Suddenly, a horn sounded.

Then another.

She snapped her gaze up the walls.

Elves crested the walls in smooth arcs, bodies flowing like water over stone. They vaulted cleanly inside, landing without sound, and instantly began firing volleys of death from atop the walls, using the height to their advantage.

Dwarves followed more heavily, grappling hooks biting deep, armor clanking as they hauled themselves up with grim efficiency.

Due to their short stature, stocky legs, and incredibly heavy armor, it was not only nearly impossible for them to jump as high as the walls, but even if they did, gravity could play a cruel prank on them with the landing.

There have been reports of the most athletic of dwarves jumping walls like the elves, but they miscalculated and jumped over the walls and broke their legs due to their heavy landing.

These days, while serving in the army, it was forbidden for dwarves to jump higher than their height.

"Give them steel, lads!"

The shout came from the wall itself.

A dwarf with a beard braided tight against his chest braced a shoulder-mounted cannon, boots planted wide as the fuse hissed.

The blast tore free with a concussive crack, the shot slamming into the nearest standing watchtower.

Stone burst outward.

The upper floors folded in on themselves, and the structure collapsed sideways, crushing the street beneath it and burying anyone too slow to flee.

Smoke and dust rolled through the gap as more grappling hooks flew, dwarves hauling themselves up through the chaos with grim, practiced motions.

However, the blast did not come without consequence.

The recoil ripped the dwarf clean off the wall.

Marwen's eyes widened as she watched his stocky form vanish backward over the edge with his cannon still clutched against his shoulder.

For a heartbeat, she thought he was dead. Thrown down to the ground below, crushed by his own weapon's force of launch.

Then he came back up.

Not climbing. Not hauled.

He shot back into view with the springiness of a high-level bunnykin, completely betraying his own race.

Marwen stared, stunned.

"What in the…"

Beyond the wall, unseen from the city, dwarven ingenuity showed its true shape.

A massive net stretched above the ground below with thick cords braided from layered steel wire and alchemically reinforced fibers. It sagged under weight, wide enough to catch siege engines, flexible enough to return force without breaking bone.

The dwarf hit it squarely on his back.

The net dipped, absorbed the impact, then hurled him upward again with controlled violence.

While airborne, utterly unconcerned, the dwarf kissed the hot cannon, ignoring the pain on his lips as he muttered, "I fucking love steel," and reached back and began reloading.

Powder pack in. Seal twisted. Barrel aligned.

He did all of it mid-flight.

As he rose and reached the highest point of his ascent, grappling hooks fired from the wall below. Thick cables wrapped around his torso and arms, snapping tight. A group of four dwarves leaned back in unison, hauling him back.

He landed hard, boots scraping stone, cannon already braced.

"The Goddess gave resources to all her children in equal measure!" he roared while planting his boots. "But she gave the brains to make proper use of them only to her favorite race! So we give them the steel, lads!"

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