Orders flew.

The western defenders began withdrawing exactly as they had practiced during the drills. Hunters climbed down from the damaged platforms and moved toward prepared positions deeper inside the town.

Bronze Knights remained behind in pairs, holding the beasts long enough for ordinary guards to retreat. Civilians dragged heavy street barricades into place once the last defenders crossed.

For several minutes, the retreat worked.

Then everything went wrong at once.

The Silver-class bear struck the weakened wall a second time, the stone shattered. A section nearly six meters wide collapsed inward. The sound rolled across the town like an explosion.

Dust, snow, and broken masonry filled the air.

And through the gap came the Beast Tide.

Frostfang Wolves squeezed through first, followed by smaller boars and two large cats. The defenders behind the wall immediately tried to redirect them toward the planned kill streets, but the collapse had occurred farther west than the corridor Raymond had prepared.

The beasts spilled into an outer residential section that had been evacuated but not fully fortified.

Raymond’s face changed. "Tristan!"

The Silver Knight was already moving.

His mobile team vanished from the central position and raced toward the breach.

Raymond started down from the wall as well.

Boris grabbed his arm. "My Lord, where are you going?"

"That breach isn’t part of the prepared route."

"And you’re the supreme commander."

"Exactly. Which means I need to see it before I start issuing orders from fifty meters away."

Boris looked ready to argue, but another crash from the western district ended the discussion.

Raymond descended the stairs quickly withtwo Bronze Knights following him. By the time he reached the outer street, the situation had already become chaotic.

A Frostfang Wolf lay dead beside an overturned cart. Another was fighting two local guards near a doorway. One Bronze Knight had pinned a large cat against a wall while a second drove a sword through its ribs.

Smoke drifted from a broken oil pot that had ignited a pile of debris, forcing civilians from the fire-control team to throw snow and sand across it before the flames spread.

Raymond moved through the street with his sword drawn, trying to understand where the beasts were concentrating.

Then the ground shook directly ahead.

A huge creature burst through the remains of a wooden shed.

Raymond stopped.

It looked vaguely like a bull, but far larger than any ordinary cattle, with thick dark hide, short forward-curving horns, and a ridge of bone running from its skull down the front of its neck. Blood covered one side of its body, and several arrows protruded uselessly from its shoulder. One of the hunters nearby screamed the identification.

"Stonehide Bull! Bronze peak!"

The beast saw Raymond.

Raymond immediately regretted being the closest moving target.

It immediately charged toward him.

His body reacted before his thoughts finished forming. Mana surged through his legs and he moved sideways, narrowly avoiding the horns as the Stonehide Bull thundered past him and smashed through the corner of an abandoned house. Raymond turned quickly, grippinghis sword with both hands.

The bull came around faster than something that large had any right to move.

Raymond remembered Boris’s training.

Don’t freeze, don’t admire your first strike, use the strength and move after impact.

The beast charged again. Raymond waited until the final moment, shifted left, and swung at the exposed neck.

His sword connected. The blade barely penetrated.

The impact sent a violent shock through his arms.

Raymond’s eyes widened. The hide was far tougher than the elk or Frostfang Wolves.

The bull twisted suddenly. Raymond tried to retreat but his sword had lodged partially in the thick hide.

For one stupid second, he held on.The beast jerked its head.

Raymond was ripped off balance. One horn passed beneath his ribs close enough that he felt the air move.

He released the sword and rolled through the snow, barely regaining his feet before the bull turned again.

His heart was hammering now. The System said 8-Star Bronze Knight.

His body had the strength. His muscles had the speed but his brain was still a man who had spent most of his previous life sitting behind a desk.

The bull didn’t care what number appeared beside his name.

It charged a third time.

Raymond tried to sidestep again.Too predictable.

The Stonehide Bull adjusted mid-charge.

Raymond realized too late.

The horn came directly toward his chest.

A dark figure crossed his vision.

One of the Bronze Knights slammed into Raymond from the side, knocking him clear.

The horn struck the Knight instead.

Metal screamed.

The warrior was thrown through the air and crashed into a snow-covered wall hard enough to crack the timber.

Raymond hit the ground and rolled. For half a second, everything became quiet in his head.

Then rage replaced fear.

He pushed himself upright.

The Bronze Knight was still alive, struggling to stand despite a deep dent across his chest armor.

The Stonehide Bull turned toward him.

Raymond looked at his sword still buried shallowly in the creature’s neck.

Then at the Knight who had just taken the hit meant for him.

"Garret!" Raymond shouted.

The Silver Knight arrived like a projectile.

He didn’t fight the Stonehide Bull.

He executed it.

Garret’s shield smashed into the animal’s skull from the side, snapping its head violently around. Before the beast could recover, his sword came down through the base of its neck with enough force to cleave through bone and drop the entire body into the snow.

The street shook when it landed.

Raymond stood several meters away breathing hard.

Garret looked toward him, then toward the injured Bronze Knight.

"My Lord, return behind the secondary line."

Raymond didn’t argue. That bothered him more than anything.

He walked over to the wounded Knight first. "Can you stand?"

The warrior forced himself upright. "Yes, Sire."

Raymond looked at the crushed armor. "Medical station. Now."

"My Lord, I can still fight."

"That wasn’t a request."

The Knight bowed and moved away with assistance.

Raymond watched him leave. His hands were still shaking slightly. Not because he had nearly died. Because somebody else had nearly died correcting his mistake.

He had gone into the street believing his Bronze rank meant he could handle himself.

He had been wrong: stats weren’t experience.

Strength wasn’t judgment.

Speed wasn’t instinct.

A veteran Bronze Knight knew when to abandon a weapon.

When to retreat.

How an animal adjusted during a charge.Where to stand.

When to commit.

Raymond had the body of a fighter and the habits of an amateur.

And on a battlefield, that difference could kill him.

He looked toward Garret. "Get back to your sector."

The Silver Knight hesitated.

Raymond gave him a tired look. "I’m going behind the line. I learned the lesson."

Garret nodded once and disappeared toward the western defenses.

Raymond returned toward the secondary command position just as another horn sounded.

Three blasts.

Breach signal.

Then another three from farther east.

Boris appeared through the street with blood across one side of his armor, though Raymond couldn’t tell whether it belonged to him or something else.

"My Lord, the western section is gone. The central wall is beginning to crack as well. We can’t hold the outer perimeter much longer."

Raymond looked past him.

Through the gaps between rooftops, he could see beasts moving inside the outer district.

Not many but enough.

The wall that had protected Althoff since the beginning of the battle was no longer a continuous defensive line.

It was broken.

Raymond wiped blood and snow from one glove, forced his breathing under control, and looked toward the inner streets they had prepared over the last seventy-two hours.

The first layer had failed.

Now the battle was coming into the town

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