Through Flame and Time

Before dawn, the drums of Snowrest City suddenly beat in hurried rhythm—three short beats followed by one long, the signal for "enemy attack imminent."

Aveline donned her armor and ascended the city wall. As a sliver of silver light broke on the horizon, a massive cloud of dust rose from Cold Vulture Valley. The deep thunder of ten thousand charging horses surged like an incoming tide.

"All units, take position!" General Vidal barked, his order echoing through the city as horns blared. City gates slammed shut, archers hid behind battlements, and catapults creaked into position.

Lucian stood at Aveline's side, unsheathing his sword: "This time, we don't retreat."

She nodded: "We're no longer just defenders—let them learn who the hunter truly is."

The enemy's first assault came with iron-clad battering rams at the vanguard, advancing from three sides. Black banners blotted the sky, their blades glinting like a forest.

"Loose arrows!" Aveline commanded.

Ten thousand arrows flew, fire-tipped shafts tearing through the sky to incinerate the first row of enemy shields. Next came crashing boulders and flaming oil, destroying two battering rams.

But the foe was numerous. A second wave of infantry followed, with hundreds of elite "Grey Ravens" attempting to scale the walls. As one black-cloaked figure leaped onto the battlements, Lucian's sword slashed him down.

"Today," he said coldly, "you'll become part of the snow."

The battle stagnated. Kalia led healers and sorcerers to set up formations in the rear, using counter-poisons seized from the Regent's apothecaries to detonate smoke bombs at breach points, throwing the enemy into chaos.

As acting lieutenant, Aveline coordinated front and rear units with agile strategy. Whenever a soldier fell, she helped them up herself. Bloodied and hoarse, she never wavered.

By afternoon, the enemy launched a third heavy assault on the North Gate with cavalry, smashing through the outer doors. Aveline led the reserve force in a counterattack, fighting back-to-back with Lucian amid a storm of blades and blood.

His longsword dripping red, he turned to shield her chest as she loosed an arrow to fell the enemy command standard, breaking their formation.

At last, as dusk fell, the enemy retreated in heavy losses. The city erupted in cheers, but Aveline stood silent.

Gazing over the snow littered with corpses, she said gravely: "This was only a probe."

General Vidal nodded: "The main force remains. The Regent will come in person."

That night, the infirmary overflowed with wounded. Aveline still toured every ward in her bloodstained armor. Lucian pulled her into a corner: "You've held on all day."

"I can't fall," she whispered.

"Then let me be your moment of respite."

Finally dropping her guard, she followed him to their chamber. Snow continued to fall, the wind sighing. He removed her armor and blood-soaked tunic, soothing her chill inch by inch.

Resting in his arms, her wounds still raw, she kissed him with longing and sorrow. Gently laying her on the bed, he murmured: "Tonight, I'll keep watch for you."

His fingertips traced every scar, each touch a silent vow: You are not alone. As she climaxed in his embrace, she bit his lip: "You're my only ally in this life."

They merged with each other amid blood and snow until the night ended and lamps died.

The next day, a spy reported: the Regent led his army across the Cold Line—they would reach Snowrest in three days.

Aveline stroked Lucian's sleeping face, whispering: "Then let this city be where their reign ends."