Boris’s warning had barely left his mouth when the northern plain began to shake again, this time with enough force that the stone beneath Raymond’s boots vibrated continuously.

The first wave had already painted the snow red and filled the outer trenches with hundreds of dead Magic Beasts, but the shapes now appearing beyond the ridge were larger, slower, and far more disciplined in the way they moved. Raymond narrowed his eyes and immediately realized why.

The weaker creatures had been forced forward first, breaking themselves against the defensive lines and filling trenches with corpses. What came behind them were not frightened stragglers anymore.

These were the heavier beasts that had been strong enough to survive being pushed through the migration, and several of the silhouettes rising above the mass were clearly Silver-class. Thick-plated boars the size of wagons moved through the snow with their heads lowered, while huge feline predators bounded between them.

Two enormous bear-like beasts walked almost upright through the crowd, their shoulders towering above the ordinary Bronze creatures around them.

Behind those were more Frostfang Wolves, but even the wolves seemed smaller now, weaving beneath the legs of larger monsters like hunting dogs following an army.

Raymond’s brief sense of triumph disappeared completely. He turned toward Boris without wasting time. "Reset the archers. Pull the western platform back ten meters before the next impact. The first trench is already half full of bodies, so assume anything fast can cross it now."

Boris immediately repeated the order to the nearest runners while Raymond looked toward Jonathan. "Move one Silver pair to the central corridor and another to the western sector. I don’t care how good Garret is at holding ground; those things are too heavy for one team to absorb continuously."

Jonathan nodded once and began issuing silent hand signals to the nearby Knights, who repositioned immediately. Raymond watched the movement with a growing sense of pressure.

The defensive plan still existed, but the battlefield had changed underneath it. Every trap consumed by the first wave was one less obstacle available for the second, and every corpse filling a trench was slowly transforming that trench into a bridge.

The second wave hit less than five minutes later.

The first armored beast crashed into the western line like a battering ram. It resembled a gigantic boar covered in overlapping plates of dark bone, each shoulder nearly level with the top of a man.

Three arrows struck its face and bounced away uselessly. Another buried itself near the eye but failed to slow it. The creature hit the first barricade with such force that the entire timber frame exploded backward, scattering sharpened stakes and broken beams across the snow.

Garret stepped forward with his shield braced and met the beast directly, but even the Silver Knight was driven backward several meters before his boots found purchase.

Two Bronze Knights attacked from the flanks, their swords biting into the softer flesh beneath the armored plates, while Garret forced the boar’s head sideways and opened its throat with a brutal downward strike.

Raymond barely had time to process that victory before another armored beast followed behind it.

Then another.

The western corridor became a wall of flesh and broken wood.

At the same time, predators began leaping the damaged trenches rather than entering through the prepared gaps. Large mountain cats cleared the corpse-filled ditch in single bounds, landing among the outer defenders before the archers could adjust.

Hunters fired at point-blank range while Bronze Knights intercepted whatever reached the base of the wall, but for the first time since the battle began, ordinary guards were forced into direct combat with Magic Beasts.

The difference was immediate.

A Frostfang Wolf slammed into one guard hard enough to knock him from his feet. The man raised his shield before the jaws reached his throat, but the beast’s weight pinned him into the snow while another soldier stabbed repeatedly into its side.

Farther east, a huge cat landed behind a barricade and tore through two volunteers before a Bronze Knight reached it. One man screamed as claws opened his thigh from hip to knee.

Another dropped his spear entirely and froze until Darric grabbed him by the collar and physically dragged him behind the line.

Raymond’s stomach tightened.

This wasn’t the clean slaughter from the first wave anymore.

People were getting hurt.

Real people.

The second defensive line had become close enough that Raymond could hear individual screams beneath the animal roars.

"Medical teams forward to the first fallback point!" Raymond shouted, turning toward one of the runners beside him. "Nobody crosses the outer line unless the sector commander clears it. Drag the wounded behind the barricades, not through active fighting!"

The runner sprinted away.

Boris looked toward the eastern wall. "My Lord, the center is holding, but the eastern platform is losing arrows faster than expected."

"Then redistribute from the southern stockpile now. Don’t wait until they’re empty." Raymond looked toward the archery line and raised his voice again. "Stop wasting shots on armored shoulders! Eyes, mouths, legs, anything soft. If you can’t hurt it, shoot something else!"

The order spread.Raymond’s mind moved constantly.

Western corridor under pressure.

Eastern hunters low on arrows.

Central trench filling.

Medical station receiving casualties.

One barricade broken.

Two still intact.

Garret engaged.

Tristan mobile.

Jonathan central.

He tried to reduce the battle into pieces the way he had managed food, labor, and construction.

But unlike a ledger, the pieces keptscreaming.

A violent cracking sound suddenly came from the far western sector.

Raymond turned.

One of the large bear-like Silver beasts had reached the wall.

It charged through the final outer barricade and slammed both forelimbs against the stonework, sending a visible fracture through the repaired section. Guards standing above stumbled. One nearly fell.

Garret’s team moved toward it, but another armored boar crashed into the corridor and blocked the approach.

Jonathan looked toward Raymond. "The wall will not survive repeated impacts."

Raymond knew.

"Then we stop pretending it has to."

Jonathan’s eyes shifted toward him.

Raymond pointed toward the western sector. "Begin controlled withdrawal from the damaged section. Archers move to the second platform. Bronze anchors retreat by pairs. Leave the barricade team behind long enough to close the street after everyone clears."

Boris immediately looked at him. "You’re giving up the western wall?"

"I’m giving up stone before I give up people."

That ended the hesitation.

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