"Mages, alternate the attack with the companion beside you! Burmans and Orghaal, climb the wall and hold the remnants!"
It wasn't easy for me to say those words.
But there wasn't much to be done. However much I hated to accept that those creatures were far more intelligent than they made themselves out to be, it was impossible to deny what my eyes saw: the queen entered the towers' range… and simply stopped advancing. That confirmed everything. The queen before me had a strategic capacity far greater than I ever imagined.
Because the towers, unlike creatures that can be commanded, had an obvious fragility.
They attacked one enemy at a time — prioritizing a single target until it fell. It was obvious to deduce: if there was any kind of intelligence in that creature, and if it had half the resistance of those two colossi down below, all it had to do was pull the focus of all the towers onto itself — and suffocate my mages with the freed horde. It was exactly what she was doing. A living lightning rod, still at the limit of the range, swallowing each shot from my best weapon without taking a step.
Seeing that personally was far more frustrating than having predicted it.
Because, honestly? It was a play I myself would use, if I could. So, despite the rage, the most I could do was adapt. She knew she didn't need to do anything beyond holding the towers while her children advanced against the wall. And to me remained dividing the mages' attack into a rotation — always keeping some power of dissuasion and destruction in the air — and sending the Burmans up the wall to receive what got through. The mages would pull back, and close combat would be advantageous for the soldiers, mainly for the Brutal Birman. But their advantage wasn't something definitive. The numbers would still swallow them.
That was why something more needed to be done.
✦ ✦ ✦
"They can't get past us, daughter."
"Understood, Papa… stay behind me. My children and I won't allow anyone to get past us."
While I watched my original strategy fall apart, I remembered a truth that world made a point of repeating.
That was what the Oasis did. It took you to maximum stress. Nothing was cheap, nothing came without effort — everything that needed to be conquered came accompanied by an epic.
"Zeus… open the gates."
While the gate opened, I finally managed to catch a glimpse of the queen in the distance.
Her eyes were fixed on the opening. And it was curious: even being a misshapen creature, she still managed to demonstrate clear feelings in her own features. That face — a mix between a common Tyrin and something much closer to an ant — seemed to smile, savoring the sight of my mage-and-tower strategy crumbling.
But, when the gate finished opening and she saw the Yokais… something in her changed.
It was as though she understood, in that instant, that it wouldn't be as easy as she believed. The rage in the scream she let out — her mouth gaping open in displeasure — was the clear sign that she would throw everything she had at me.
"Get ready! Protect the flanks and kill everyone! Cavalry, stay farther back and eliminate those that get past the Yokais. Don't let anything get past you!"
The queen's tactic changed the exact moment she saw the Yokais.
She seemed to understand that keeping a sparse attack, trying to force entry at various points, wouldn't work anymore. Soon, the sides began to be abandoned — and the creatures started to funnel through the gate, throwing themselves over one another in the eagerness to enter. Exactly as I wanted. The grinder was open.
✦ ✦ ✦
"Attack, my daughters!"
Arachne shouted, and her daughters finally advanced against the enemy.
The difference between a spider of nearly four meters and creatures that barely reached two was clear as day. Their pincers and legs cut and pierced the enemy like a knife through butter. Their radius of action was spaced, calculated — and I, along with the cavalry, stayed on the periphery, forming a large containment ring. Our function was to hold the enemy and prevent anything from entering the territory to attack the mages and archers from behind. There was, still, a third line, assembled with the Wolves — but I had no illusions: the most they would give me was time to improvise something desperate. Wolves hardly won a one-on-one fight.
"Prince! How's the wall?"
I shouted to the griffin that flew over the terrain, patrolling.
My worry continued to be the wall. My entire tactic depended on a single thing: the wall couldn't fall. I needed the mages to hold as long as possible. There was still the containment of the Burmans and Orghaal up there — but it would be a catastrophe if, now that the gate was open, I lost the walls even with fewer enemies attacking them. My tactic depended on factors that, despite being very clear to my enemy, I really found hard to overcome.
"The wall is holding firm, my Lord! The enemy is funneling at the main entrance!"
The first Tyrin got past a Yokai, advancing toward the horses.
But, before it got close enough, I impaled it with a giant spear. It was the first time I created a spear of that size. Normally, fighting mounted on the creatures, I preferred a smaller one, more versatile. But, since my function there was to hold an area, I opted for a Macedonian spear — a sarissa. Less flexible, more focused on a single thing: containing advances through thrusts.
And, honestly, it was the kind of unit I would have built, had I had time.
The fifty spearmen I planned way back would have served for this much better than the cavalry I had. But I would have to work with what existed — and couldn't complain. The knights were extremely capable: on the few occasions I saw them face the enemies that reached them, their long swords tore the Tyrin apart with ease. Of course, it was a cavalry that cost its own weight in gold, and, frankly, didn't have a good cost-benefit ratio. But, since it came for free, I could only be thankful to have them with me.
"Hold the enemy! Don't let them enter the territory!"
✦ ✦ ✦
After nearly three hours, my body was soaked.
There were too many enemies. The number was such that even the effectiveness of the Yokais — killing dozens in a few seconds — still seemed small before the quantity that pushed through the gate. In less than an hour, the fight had already reached the cavalry. And, consequently, me.
The sarissa proved excellent.
The enemy itself skewered itself on it — pushed by those behind, dying only because my spear was leveled. But that lasted little. An enemy that has no fear of dying helps in nothing: it doesn't retreat, doesn't hesitate, doesn't learn. It didn't take long for the spear to be crammed with bodies, too heavy, useless. So I transformed it into sword and shield, and continued the battle.
"Damn, they never end… AHHHHH!"
My arm was numb while I slew the enemies, one by one.
They gave themselves to my blade like mosquitoes to the light. But soon exhaustion hit me — that leaden weight that rises up the muscles and turns each blow into a debt.
"Zaetar, come!"
I believed it would take much longer before I needed to summon him in this battle.
But the frenetic and unstoppable attack, combined with the fatigue of the troops, proved too much for our resilience. Zaetar entered the fight to give relief — and he managed to be as effective as a Yokai. Even so, it wasn't enough. Soon I realized that the knights, however long they held out fighting, wouldn't manage to fight indefinitely — and some enemies began to get past them. The Wolves, unfortunately, were weaker than I supposed: not even four of them together managed to stop an enemy quickly, and, even when they killed one, it was at the cost of the life of one of them.
That was unsustainable.
And, while I processed that, two Tyrin got past Zaetar.
"DAMN!"
I advanced against the first, defending the bite with the shield and cutting with the sword — a fight of pure attrition.
The second, however, simply ignored me. And got past.
"Damn! Someone hold the enemy!"
When I finally thought one of them was going to break our line and mess up the entire strategy, a giant wooden leg kicked the creature — with enough force to hurl it over the wall, like a home run.
"LORD! I've come to help!"
Livina appeared — and, beside her, four Treebeards advanced against the enemy, relieving the pressure exactly where things were getting ugly.
Their strength rivaled that of a Yokai. But, unlike Arachne's daughters, who focused on cutting and biting, the Treebeards simply kicked and slapped — hurling the enemies back to the Yokais, or straight out of the wall. It was more effective. And, therefore, better.
"Thank you…"
Honestly, it wasn't the first time Livina disobeyed me or took action on her own.
But it was one of the first times I was genuinely happy about it. Her summons were extremely strong — and she herself was as capable as a unique hero should be. With her arrival, the fight began to balance out: the enemy even managed to get past the Yokais, but couldn't get past me, Livina, and Eris's cavalry.
✦ ✦ ✦
It didn't take long before another scream filled the space — and the number of enemies began to diminish.
"Damn… what the hell is she doing now?"
I needed to understand what the queen's new approach would be.
Because, to me, the most she could do was that. But, somehow, she seemed to have a different idea of how to win that fight — and, unfortunately, I couldn't identify it in time. At least, not until the Prince gave me the answer.
"Lord! They're coming out of holes near the wall!"
How did I not think of that.
Those sons of bitches were diggers, after all. What surprised me was something else: the queen had conceived, in a few hours, a way to nullify one of the greatest advantages I had created to protect the wall. With the enemy sprouting from holes flush against the base, the mages ceased to be effective — because the greatest weakness of a mage was, and always had been, distance. The shorter it was, the more dangerous: the mage who doesn't kill the enemy before it arrives is a dead mage.
"Damn… Mages and archers, pull back! Burmans and Orghaal, protect the perimeter until everyone manages to retreat!"
From afar, I could see the smile of that son of a bitch.
She seemed to know exactly how to win that fight. And the most I could do was feel rage — because I wasn't capable of sustaining the gate and the fall of the wall at the same time. From that moment on, that stopped being a fight of resistance. And became a fight of survival.
"Livina, give support to the Burmans!"
"But, Lord—"
Before she could complain, I cut her off.
"I need the mages to reposition as fast as possible, and safely. If they die, we die together. Did you understand?"
"I understood, my Lord. I'm going — I'll be back as fast as I can!"
✦ ✦ ✦
While I watched Livina leave with her summons, I knew that, alone, that would be of no use.
The army we had was too small to occupy the entire perimeter. And, even if we resisted for the maximum time possible, it would be impossible to hold out until the sun rose — by my calculations, there were still at least eight hours left. Eight hours of an infinite horde, against an army that was already fighting at its limit.
But the queen herself had opened a window.
Risky. Maybe suicidal. But it was the only one that existed at that moment.
"Daughter… the enemy eased the attack through the gate to attack the sides. We're going to take the battle to them. Are you with me?"
The only thing I could think of to bring the advantage back was to create chaos among the enemy.
And the only way to do that was by attacking the author of the entire strategy. Now that the gate was relieved, the Yokais managed to advance with ease — pushing the tide back out.
"Understood, Papa… so we're going to fight to the end."
She understood what I wanted.
It was a crazy tactic. Stupid, maybe. But it was the best way to win. If the queen fell, we would win — simple as that. She was stuck in the role of lightning rod, absorbing the fire of all the towers, while the majority of her soldiers were dispersed across the sides. She was, for the first time in the night, exposed. Of course, alone, she was already a colossus. And, unfortunately, I couldn't bring anyone besides Arachne — everyone else still needed to defend the territory while we tried to win.
"You and I…"
Arachne understood — and shouted to the Yokais, who now advanced to the gate, pushing the enemy toward the exit and opening the way.
It was now or never.
I climbed up Arachne's legs to her back. And then she leaped — over the gate, over the tide of enemies, landing outside the safe world I had built.
I managed to see the queen's face of surprise in the distance.
Maybe she didn't expect that. But, also, she didn't seem worried. And, in a way, that was perfect — because underestimating was exactly what I needed her to do.
"Let's see what you're made of, you son of a bitch."