Ravenwood Fortress — the Capital Gate of the Central Continent — once stood as an emblem of pride, a citadel carved from obsidian stone and sanctified with runes of protection older than the war itself. It loomed over the plains like an unbreakable promise, a monument that once shielded the Central's heart.
Now, it burned.
The siege began before dawn. The night sky was still bleeding from the stars when May's artillery division roared to life from the northern ridge. The horizon flashed white, then red, as mana shells rained down like falling comets. The ground trembled with each impact.
Every shot she commanded was precise — calibrated, timed, and merciless. The shells screamed as they cut through the wind, bursting against the fortress walls with earth-shaking force. The runes cracked. The towers crumbled. The black stone that had once seemed eternal splintered beneath her will.
