By the time Iron Oak City appeared on the horizon, the army no longer looked like a force of living beings.
It moved like a shadow.
Days of uninterrupted destruction had stripped something away from them. Blood, ash, and the smell of burning flesh clung to their armor and skin, forming an invisible shroud that even the wind seemed unwilling to touch. When it passed through their ranks, it slowed—cold, reluctant.
They had stopped reacting.
No cheers. No tension.
Villages burned, people died, and the army simply advanced.
Efficient. Silent.
A machine.
Then they saw it.
Iron Oak City.
And for the first time—
they slowed.
It rose from the plains like something ancient and immovable.
No wooden fences. No crumbling earthworks.
Stone.
Massive, interlocked blocks forming walls that stood like a cliff—scarred where newer reinforcements cut across older masonry. Above them, wooden battlements and arrow towers jutted outward like jagged horns.
Banners bearing the Raymond crest snapped in the wind.
Guards patrolled the walls.
Even from miles away, the glint of armor could be seen.
Waiting.
Watching.
Unshaken.
This was not something to be overrun.
This was something built to endure.
The army made camp within a thin woodland, ten li from the city.
No fires.
No noise.
Just the quiet presence of something dangerous.
Barton paced like a caged beast.
His axe rested on his shoulder, but his gaze never left the walls in the distance.
"…that thing won't break easy," he muttered.
"Looks harder than your skull," Boulder replied dryly.
Barton shot him a glare—but didn't argue.
Even he understood.
This wasn't prey.
The others said nothing.
The same warriors who had butchered villages without hesitation now stood still, watching the fortress in silence.
Not afraid.
But aware.
"Anna."
Colin's voice cut through the stillness.
She rode forward immediately.
"My lord."
He raised his whip and pointed toward the city.
"I want everything."
His tone did not change.
"Numbers. Supplies. Command. Walls. Weaknesses."
A pause.
Then, almost casually—
"And if their commander snores, I want that too."
A faint shift passed through Anna's expression.
Not humor.
Clarity.
"Understood."
She selected four scouts—light-footed, silent, precise—and sent them into the dusk.
They vanished before anyone could watch them leave.
The wait began.
No fires were lit.
No one spoke unless necessary.
The army ate dry rations and sharpened steel.
Time stretched.
Colin stood over a map.
His finger traced Iron Oak City again and again.
No one asked what he was thinking.
A full day passed.
Then night.
Then another day.
At dusk, they returned.
Shadows slipping back into the camp.
Exhausted.
One of them wounded.
Anna entered the tent.
Her face was tight.
"My lord."
Colin did not look up immediately.
Then—
"Report."
"Iron Oak City is fully fortified."
Her voice was steady, but heavy.
"Stone walls—six meters. Reinforced wooden structures above, bringing total height to over nine. Smooth surfaces. No viable climbing points."
She paused.
"The garrison… over twelve hundred trained soldiers. Organized. Disciplined."
A shift moved through the tent.
No one spoke.
"Additionally, at least one thousand militia inside. Poorly equipped—but sufficient for defense."
More silence.
"As for supplies—"
She exhaled slowly.
"This is their northern grain center. Stores have already been consolidated. They can hold for years."
The weight of it settled.
"Defensive equipment is extensive," Anna continued. "Arrow towers at all key points. Stockpiles of stones, logs, fire oil. Ammunition is abundant."
"And the commander?"
"A knight named Gago. Loyal. Known for defensive warfare."
She stopped.
Then finished it.
"If we assault directly… we have, at best, a thirty percent chance of breaching the walls."
A pause.
"And even if we succeed—we will be destroyed in the process."
Silence.
Total.
Barton spoke first.
"…so we just leave it?"
His voice was low. Reluctant.
Colin didn't answer.
His gauntleted finger tapped the map.
Once.
Twice.
Each tap echoed in the quiet like a heartbeat.
Then—
He moved.
His finger slid away from Iron Oak City.
North.
Further.
Stopping only when it reached another mark.
The Northern Mine.
"Who said we were leaving it?"
His voice was calm.
Cold.
Certain.
"Our goal was never to take cities."
He looked up.
The room felt smaller under his gaze.
"We are not here to fight fair battles."
He straightened.
Armor shifting with a quiet, deliberate weight.
"We are here to destroy."
"To break his strength. To take back what is ours. To strike where he cannot defend."
His gaze returned to the map.
"Iron Oak City…"
A faint pause.
"…is bait."
His voice hardened.
"So we don't bite."
He stepped back.
Orders already formed.
"Bypass the city."
"Burn everything around it."
"Villages. Farms. Orchards. Wells."
"Erase them."
His tone dropped—lower, quieter.
More dangerous.
"I want that fortress standing alone in a dead land."
"Let them sit behind their walls—hungry, blind, and useless."
Then—
"We move north."
His finger tapped the mine again.
Final.
"That…"
"…is where we end this."