Everything around me seemed alive.
The tunnel, which I imagined to be just packed and broken earth, was in truth ancient and well-kept. Everything was filled with a whitish substance that covered the floor and the ceiling, like a membrane — perhaps the way those creatures ensured the place wouldn't collapse. Perhaps a kind of terraforming, molding the environment into something more comfortable for them. Honestly, I couldn't say.
What I knew was that it made movement difficult.
But I had already expected that. It was their territory, after all. Their house. And no one fights at a greater disadvantage than in the enemy's house.
"Orghaal Shields, advance quickly and gain territory. Half the Fairies, light the path. Livina, go with them."
The sound at the back of the cave, wrapped in darkness, was loud.
Without the forty meters of earth between us, it was clear that something was happening up ahead. Fortunately, we still seemed not to have been noticed — so I took the chance to advance and gain ground. While the Orghaal moved forward with their kite-shaped shields, I, alongside Morgana, pulled back a little to set up a safe area in the center. After we managed to span the fifty meters planned, I was surprised that nothing had happened.
Because the noise we made wasn't small.
We were more than four hundred units. The din of so many moving, digging, dragging shields, would be impossible to ignore. Fortunately, I had chosen on the map a stretch that, despite belonging to that tunnel full of branchings, had fewer offshoots — so that, even after gaining the fifty meters, we didn't have to worry so much about being attacked from the flanks.
✦ ✦ ✦
"We're going to set up a defense line here. Help me with this."
While I had time, I took the chance to take from the ring some rudimentary stakes.
Those stakes weren't the kind of item that would let me sleep easy — but they would prevent any mounted advance. Honestly, I still didn't understand the Tyrin. I didn't know how their units worked. What I had was the little that was on record, and that worried me: the enemy was, in many aspects, reserved. And a reserved enemy was the worst kind of enemy to attack directly. Either way, the stakes gave me a certain relief.
"The cavalry units stay positioned at the center and wait for my command. The others, help me clear the ground."
There were two ways to deal with the time we were gaining.
The first was to stay tense, still, waiting for the enemy to advance. I hated that option. The second — the one I chose — was to make the environment around me as suitable for battle as possible. And, for that, I needed light, protection, and mainly favorable terrain. That strange ground, sticky and hard to step on, had to disappear. So, quickly, I took the Birman Swords and the Wolves and used them to clear the terrain, digging as much as possible — forming with the unknown residue, on both sides, a small wall of earth no more than a meter high, while the soil finally returned to being soft and packed earth.
✦ ✦ ✦
"Lord, we've been here almost three hours, and nothing has happened…"
I understood Morgana's tension.
It was clear they knew we were there. And, with the path closed the way we had closed it, if they wanted to continue whatever they were doing, they would have to pass through us. But, after so much time, nothing happened. And, even so, I knew something would come.
"Can you hear anything?"
Morgana sharpened her ears. And indeed, nothing seemed to exist for kilometers around.
"I can't… but what does that mean?"
To Morgana, it meant nothing. To me, it meant everything.
Because silence always announces something. That silence was the same as that of felines on the savanna, in the instant before they pounce on the prey with everything they have. I knew what it meant: we had been identified, and now we were being analyzed. The enemy was somewhere, in the darkness, watching us — calculating the best way to act. And I felt it wouldn't be long until we were attacked.
"It means the enemy already knows we're here. But it's going to play with us as much as it can."
I didn't want to be subtle.
We were in its house. And, although the Fairies managed to light the tunnel for a good few meters, it was impossible to brighten all that darkness. The tension of nothing happening affected Morgana more than if the enemy had simply thrown itself on us the moment we entered. And I knew that was, in itself, a strategy. Even if they didn't attack us for days, the wait for something that never comes would wear us down as much as an attack. That only confirmed one thing to me: behind those creatures, there was a sensible leader. Intelligent.
"But, if it stays like this, we're going to lose before we even fight."
Morgana had a point.
The enemy was intelligent enough to mess with our minds. But I also had an idea to make it lose its composure.
"Don't worry. I have a plan."
✦ ✦ ✦
I took some of the stakes that were left over and threw them on the ground, asking one of the Fairies to set fire to them.
Morgana seemed confused, but said nothing — she just waited to see what I would do.
"When the Vikings attacked certain fortresses in Britain, they had an intriguing tactic to make the enemy leave the safety of their own walls. Some were simple. Others, complex. And among them, there was one particularly brutal: they decapitated the enemies who hadn't managed to get inside the fortification in time, and hurled the heads over the wall. The sole intent was to force the enemy to react. To appear. It was cruel. And it was functional."
While I spoke, I drew the limb Eris had given me, and threw it into the fire.
"My Lord… won't the Burman who handed that over be irritated if you burn her trophy?"
While she spoke, the repugnant smell of the creature began to fill the air, advancing through the darkness like a message.
And it didn't take long.
A deafening scream cut through the tunnel — shrill, furious, coming from the depths. A scream that wasn't of pain, but of rage. The rage of an entire hive that had just smelled its own blood being burned in territory it judged to be its own.
"Sometimes, the enemy just needs an incentive. Get ready, soldiers! The hour has come!"
✦ ✦ ✦
Somehow, the enemy managed to mobilize its forces to attack from both flanks at the same time.
It was possible to see the Tyrin emerging from all sides. Quadrupedal bodies, black and repugnant, like a summons come from hell itself — and distorted faces that seemed to see us as a single thing: food. Most were no more than a meter tall. But, among them, there were some clearly larger, bordering on two meters thirty.
"Orghaal, open space for the Burmans!"
Quickly, the Orghaal spaced themselves out, giving passage to the Birman Swords.
The enemy took advantage of the change in the front line to advance like a pack of rabid dogs.
"Front line, now! Close!"
The first line of Orghaal closed with a snap, blocking the advance, the enemies crashing against the wall of shields.
I was surprised. I knew the Orghaal were strong — but to see that even the most basic ones managed to hold so many enemies without yielding an inch was a great surprise. While they held the charge with their shields, the Birman Swords stabbed through the gaps, from behind, forming a solid line of attack and defense. And the rear seemed to be doing even better.
Because the Brutal Birman were, simply, an unstoppable force.
They advanced with strength and speed, reaping all the enemies with their swords, without the Tyrin having any chance to strike back. It was a massacre. On one side, a cadenced and intelligent fight. On the other, bodies being ground up and blades losing their edge from so much cutting flesh. And yet, despite seeming easy, the real problem resided in a single thing: the quantity.
The enemies didn't stop appearing.
The Brutal Birman seemed tireless beasts — even after four hours, they still advanced, slaughtering. But, on the front line, the little damage that accumulated in the Orghaal each minute began to charge its price. Little by little, some began to fall. Others, clearly, were at their limit.
"Our turn has come, girls. Let's go."
✦ ✦ ✦
Unfortunately, with the short time, I hadn't managed to create any kind of sophisticated armor.
I had to go with a simple but resistant one. As a weapon, I used a spear created by my Mark — it wasn't the weapon I had the most intimacy with, but it was the one that allowed me to use the Orghaal's defense to my favor, attacking over the shields. Livina summoned six Treebeards at the front of the line, which relieved the pressure immediately — the enormous trees, whose crowns reached the ceiling, kicked and punched the enemies to death. Morgana, with her crossbow, fired in a cadenced way. And each shot was an enemy life reaped.
With that, finally, the wounded Orghaal could be pulled back to the center.
A new front line rose, and held for a few more hours — until, at last, the quantity of enemies seemed to diminish significantly, enough to allow me to pull back along with Livina.
"Why did they stop?"
I couldn't say.
Honestly, I expected to have to stay there for days until the flow finally ceased. But something was happening. Something had changed.
"Maybe they understood it was hard to gain anything here. Either way — you stay. I'm going to see what's happening up top."
Before going back, I sent the Wolves to finally advance through the paths, in search of anything that could be useful to me.
They were fast and intelligent — at the very least, they would manage to flee from the enemy. I needed to understand what was happening on the other fronts. I was certain Arachne was having fun there in her tunnel, but I needed to see how my kingdom was. I left Livina and Morgana taking care of the position down below and went back through the Void's portal.
When I arrived, I arrived just in time.
Just in time to see the protection dome finally dissolve in the air — while, outside, footsteps began to sound against the earth. Heavy. Countless. Approaching.
A new round of battle was about to begin.
✦ ✦ ✦
By the noise, you could already tell the quantity of enemies was massive. But, to be sure, I preferred to advance quickly to the wall and get a complete view.
And what appeared before me was terrifying.
Enemies that stretched as far as the eyes could reach, tearing the horizon — a black and infinite sea of bodies that moved like a single creature. And it was before that that the Magic Tower revealed itself the most precious item I could have built. Its passive allowed all my other towers to deal magical damage, instead of just the physical damage from before. Observing the terrain, and the quantity of enemies advancing, it became clear: if I still depended on the basic darts from before, I would be screwed.
But it wasn't just the tower's passive — the one of granting area magical damage to the other towers — that interested me.
When the creatures finally got close to the walls, the Magic Tower itself began to pour its power over the enemy. Volleys of abilities of all kinds — fireballs, water jets, blades of wind. Nothing that got within ten meters of the wall managed to stay whole. It was a solid defense. And, combined with the wall itself, which wounded any creature that tried to climb it, it made the function of the archers and the mages almost secondary.
From atop the wall, I could perceive that the Void seemed to be starting to tire of keeping the rifts open. So I took the chance to make my will clear.
"Void, keep the portals active for as long as necessary."
After all, I didn't want, under any circumstances, for Arachne, Livina, or Morgana to be left without an escape route, in case something went wrong down below. Either way, the Aquamarine still seemed capable of holding out for a good while. I went back to observing the enemies, in search of some anomaly.
It was hard to see anything different in that black sea.
My worry was the accumulation of bodies at the base of the wall — but, fortunately, thanks to the Magic Tower, the creatures couldn't get close enough to pile up the dead and form a ladder of flesh. Even so, one thing was clear: that would be a fight in which time played in the enemy's favor. Every minute, they replenished what they lost. I didn't.
I walked along the wall, observing my troops work.
The archers fired at a constant rhythm, more out of discipline than real necessity — the Magic Tower did the bulk of the work. The mages, scattered atop the structure, cast their spells over the few Tyrin that got too close to the base, ensuring that none managed to gain a foothold. It was a well-oiled war machine, each piece in its place. And yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that all of that was just the warm-up. That the enemy, far away, hadn't even begun to fight for real.
It was then that I decided to seek answers where my eyes couldn't reach.
✦ ✦ ✦
"Prince! What are you seeing up there?"
I shouted to the Prince, who, along with the two young griffins, observed the distant surroundings — the part of the field my eyes couldn't reach.
He descended quickly, and informed me of what he saw.
"So there are three giant enemies?"
"Yes. Two are enormous, nearly ten meters tall, and seem to protect a third. That last one is twice the size of the others — and carries, on its back, something like a white sack, gigantic. It's from there that the enemy comes out. Constantly."
I was silent for an instant, processing that.
Twenty meters. Maybe more. A mountain of flesh and chitin, so large that it probably made the ground tremble with each step — if it even walked. The two ten-meter guardians, alone, would already be a nightmare. But they were nothing more than shields. Guard dogs before something far worse.
Having a creature capable of flying gave me an advantage that went far beyond aerial power.
It gave information — the kind of information no ground unit could ever obtain. And it was thanks to the Prince that I now knew exactly where that colossal creature was, and what, probably, were its guardians. On a battlefield, knowing where the enemy hides its heart is worth more than a thousand soldiers.
I was shocked by the size the Prince had described.
A creature like that would be, by far, the largest living thing I had ever seen in the Oasis. And it belonged to a race that lived on a planet like any other, and that, at some point, received permission to enter the Oasis. It was hard to imagine that a being of that magnitude was, in the end, nothing more than a peer of mine — another participant, another player on that cruel board.
✦ ✦ ✦
The biology of that creature, however, confused me profoundly.
The Tyrin that appeared by the thousands were, clearly, the kind of creature that should be summoned by a barracks — army units, like my archers, like the lent Burmans. But that wasn't what happened. Apparently, they were generated by the giant creature itself. They came out of that white sack, alive, ready for war. It was something unprecedented. Something I had never seen, nor read in any record.
And it was exactly there that my greatest question resided.
Because the creation of those Tyrin seemed to have no limit. Neither of quantity, nor of quality. It was an overwhelming power — the capacity to generate an entire army at will, replacing each casualty almost the instant it happened. And that raised a question that bothered me more than any horde: if that race possessed such an absurd power, how, in the name of everything, had it not yet dominated the entire Oasis? What bound a force like that to a single dark valley, biting the heels of a wall?
And there was a second doubt, equally disturbing.
What, exactly, was that thing? A summon — like my Arachne, a monstrous heroine in the service of a Lord hidden in the shadows? Or would it itself be the Lord of that territory, a real queen, commanding her own people from atop that colossal body? I had no way to know. And, honestly, neither of the two answers brought me comfort. A summon of that size meant a terrifying Lord hidden somewhere. And a Lord of that size meant an enemy I could barely imagine how to defeat.
✦ ✦ ✦
For now, however, none of that mattered.
The queen — because that was how I had decided to call her, for lack of a better name — was too far away, too protected. To attack her now would be suicide. What mattered, at that moment, was to hold out. To resist the wave that broke against my walls, to keep my towers fed, and not to let time, the enemy's only true ally, consume me before the hour.
I observed the black sea crash against the light of the towers, creature after creature being reduced to ash and water and wind.
It was a sight almost beautiful, for how terrible it was. And, somewhere back there, in the depths of that ocean of bodies, the giant thing continued to birth more and more soldiers, indifferent, patient, as though it had all the time in the world. As though it knew, with the cold certainty of one who never had any hurry, that sooner or later I would tire. That every wall, at some point, cracks.
I gripped the spear in my hand.
She was wrong. Not about the walls — those, yes, always cracked. But about me. Because I didn't intend to win that just by resisting. Resisting was what all the previous protectors had tried. And all of them were dead. I would do it differently.
I just needed to discover that place's secret before my wall — or my mind — was the first to give way.
"Stay strong!"
I shouted to my troops, my voice cutting through the roar of the battle.
And, while the eternal night of that valley filled with fire and screams, I turned my eyes to the white sack on the horizon. To the thing that wouldn't stop creating life only to send it to die. And, for the first time since I arrived at that hell, I didn't feel fear. I felt curiosity. Because everything that had a mechanism — everything that worked in such a specific way — had, somewhere, a flaw.
And discovering flaws had always been my specialty.