The first wave ended by nightfall.

The valley before Elarion became a frozen graveyard of torn fur, shattered bone, black blood, broken barricades, and smoking craters from cannon fire.

Snow continued falling through it all.

Quietly covering the dead. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

The final surviving beasts eventually retreated back toward the forest under rifle fire and dragonflame while exhausted soldiers leaned against the battlements trying to remember how breathing worked.

One young marksman dropped onto the stone wall heavily.

"...I cannot feel my shoulders."

The older rifleman beside him nodded sympathetically.

"That means the rifle still exists."

"Comforting."

Another soldier stared blankly into the distance.

"I think the cannon rearranged my organs."

Nearby, the cannon crew looked deeply offended.

"She performed magnificently."

"She deafened half the wall!"

"That is called morale."

Lucas stepped carefully around a frost boar corpse nearly blocking the western stairs while muttering:

"This entire fortress smells terrible."

Cedric looked around the battlefield thoughtfully.

"Yes."

A pause.

"...Victorious though."

"That does not improve the smell."

Workers and soldiers had already begun cleanup operations despite the freezing dark.

Bodies needed burning.

Walls needed repair.

Barricades needed rebuilding before another attack arrived.

Because everyone in the north understood one thing clearly:

A beast tide never came alone.

Lucien stood atop the northern battlements while watching distant fires burn across the valley below.

The first engagement had gone better than expected.

The rifles worked.

The cannon worked.

The walls held.

But the soldiers were exhausted already.

And winter had barely begun.

Malen approached silently beside him.

"Scouts confirmed retreat patterns."

"Temporary?"

"Yes."

Lucien nodded once.

Of course.

The forests beyond Elarion were still full.

The beasts would regroup.

Then return again.

And again.

The Peak Knight looked toward the dark northern tree line stretching across the horizon.

"This winter will be ugly."

"Yes."

Below them, Aurethar rested near the outer wall surrounded by terrified workers attempting to clean blood from his scales using heated water buckets.

The dragon looked personally offended by the process.

"That creature exploded."

One worker nodded nervously.

"Yes, honored dragon."

"It exploded on me."

"...Yes."

Aurethar narrowed his golden eyes.

"I dislike exploding wildlife."

The poor worker honestly had no response to that.

Nearby, Gandalf inspected damaged rifles while muttering to himself.

"We need stronger firing brackets."

One engineer blinked.

"After all that, THAT is your conclusion?"

"The rifles survived. Therefore improvement is possible."

"That feels emotionally disconnected from reality."

"Science requires sacrifice."

Cedric walked past carrying half a broken barricade over one shoulder.

"You weren’t even near the fighting."

Gandalf looked offended.

"I sacrificed emotionally."

The next morning revealed the true scale of the battlefield.

The valley below Elarion looked devastated.

Huge craters marked cannon impacts while burned sections of snow still melted from dragonfire. Beast corpses littered the outer defenses almost beyond counting.

And already—

Scavengers circled overhead.

Workers spent the entire day dragging corpses into massive burning pits outside the walls while black smoke rose endlessly into the gray winter sky.

One exhausted laborer stared at the growing corpse mountain.

"...I miss normal winters."

Another nodded while dragging a wolf twice his size.

"Remember when snow was the problem?"

Meanwhile inside the fortress council chamber, reality settled over everyone properly for the first time.

The first wave had cost Elarion: forty-two wounded seven dead damaged walls destroyed outer defenses massive ammunition usage

And winter was just beginning.

Lucas rubbed both hands across his face tiredly while reviewing supply reports.

"At this rate we’ll burn through powder reserves within two months."

"We’ll produce more," Lucien answered calmly.

"And the steel?"

"More."

"The food?"

Lucien paused slightly at that one.

Because food mattered more than rifles eventually.

Cedric leaned against the war table afterward.

"The beasts will keep testing the walls now that they know people are here."

Malen nodded once.

"They’ll probe for weakness."

Aurethar lazily rested his head near the fireplace.

"Then we kill them until they stop."

Lucas looked toward the dragon.

"That is not a strategy."

"It has worked for centuries."

"...Fair."

Outside, the First Rifle Regiment resumed training only two days after the battle.

That honestly shocked most of the settlement.

The soldiers looked exhausted.

Bruised.

Half deaf from cannon fire.

Yet they still assembled on the snowy training grounds beneath Malen’s supervision.

One recruit visibly flinched every time a rifle fired now.

Another kept glancing nervously toward the northern forest during drills.

Malen noticed everything.

"Again."

The regiment reloaded.

"Faster."

A marksman winced while lifting his rifle.

"My shoulder is still bleeding."

"Then bleed efficiently."

"...You are a terrifying human being."

Malen ignored the comment completely.

Lucien watched the training quietly from the fortress balcony afterward while snow drifted across the valley below.

This was the real challenge now.

Not winning one battle.

Surviving the season.

Because winter in the north was never one enemy.

It was exhaustion.

Attrition.

Cold.

Fear.

And constant pressure.

Three nights later—

The warning bells rang again.

Smaller this time.

Shorter.

But still enough to pull soldiers from sleep instantly.

Another wave.

Then another four days later.

Then another the following week.

Not as large as the first tide.

But relentless.

Wolves.

Frost spiders.

Ice-scaled beasts from the deeper forests.

Sometimes small packs.

Sometimes hundreds.

Always testing.

Always searching.

The winter became a cycle afterward.

Fight.

Repair.

Reload.

Burn bodies.

Sleep.

Repeat.

Elarion adapted because it had no choice.

The rifle regiment grew steadier with every battle.

The cannon crews became frighteningly enthusiastic.

Even civilians started recognizing beast sounds from the walls alone.

And through it all—

The factories never stopped burning.

Steel production increased.

Powder stores expanded.

New rifles entered service weekly.

Because Lucien understood something the rest of the kingdom still did not.

Winter itself was forging Elarion into something dangerous.