Snow fell thick and heavy from the sky, blanketing the battlefield in a chilling white silence.
But that silence shattered every second with roars, blasts, and screams. The mages on the wall were drenched in sweat despite the freezing cold. Their hands trembled, eyes hollow, drained from casting the same spell again and again just to keep the fire alive. Some collapsed, others grit their teeth and kept chanting.
Robert stood still among the chaos, his eyes fixed on the dark sky. Thick black clouds hung above, unmoving, as if the heavens themselves were watching. He checked the time,still two hours before sunrise. The air felt like it had frozen in place.
"Sir… Should we use the reserve potions?" one of the junior knights asked, shivering as he held onto the wall.
"No," Robert replied flatly, without looking. "We don't waste resources.Not now."
"But they're—"
