Oliver stood tall atop the wall, though the weight of the moment pressed down on him like an anvil. His heart hammered in his chest, each beat a reminder of the lives that depended on his leadership. The sky above them, washed in hues of crimson and gold, felt more like a warning than a new dawn. He swallowed hard, his throat dry. He’d seen battles before, but this... this felt different.
Behind him, the murmur of prayers from the Belief Settlement's defenders filled the air. Some whispered under their breath, clutching relics of their belief. Others clenched their weapons tighter, fear gleaming in their eyes, fear they tried to mask with stoic expressions. Oliver could see through it. He felt it. The weight of that fear clawed at his own resolve, but he couldn’t—wouldn’t—let it break him.
“Steady,” he called again, though his voice cracked slightly this time. He shot a glance at Stevens, who stood beside him, his knuckles white as they gripped his sword.
“They’re coming, Oliver,” Stevens muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “We’re not ready for this.”
“We’re never ready, Stevens. But we don’t have the luxury of surrender.”
The weight of his own words sat heavily on his shoulders. He scanned the horizon, his eyes locking on the banners of Nadir’s army—those dark, looming symbols of impending doom. His stomach twisted, a coil of dread tightening with every passing second. Surrender wasn’t an option. If they fell today, it wouldn’t be because they’d given up.
‘‘‘
Nadir’s booming voice echoed from his palanquin, carried on the wind like a thunderclap rolling across the battlefield. His words held the weight of a man who believed he was chosen by destiny itself, his presence undeniable even at this distance.
“People of the Belief Settlement!” Nadir began, his voice dripping with arrogance and authority. “I am Nadir, voice of the Prophet, bearer of His will! You stand against the Faith, against the divine order itself. You are nothing but sand lice in the eyes of the righteous!”
His gaze swept over the settlement, cold and calculating. Every word he spoke was measured, designed to sow fear in the hearts of his enemies.
“You face the true soldiers of the Faith, warriors blessed with purpose, ready to cleanse this world of your blasphemy!” He raised his arm, pointing toward the walls of the settlement as if marking them for death. “You are cornered, your walls will crumble, and your lives mean nothing to me or the Faith. Yet I offer you a chance—a fleeting mercy.”
He paused, letting the weight of his next words sink in.
“Surrender now, convert to the Faith, kneel before me, and perhaps I will spare your lives. Reject my offer, and you will burn. Your homes will be ash, and your names will be forgotten in the winds of history.”
The silence that followed his proclamation was suffocating. Nadir gave a mocking smile, knowing the terror he was sowing. “This is your only chance,” he continued, his voice low but carrying far. “Resist, and I will show no mercy. There will be no second offers.”
His voice hung in the air, a challenge, a threat, and a promise all at once. The soldiers behind him stood still, waiting, ready to unleash the wrath of their leader’s will.
‘‘‘
Oliver’s jaw clenched. He could almost feel the eyes of his men turning toward him, waiting for his response. He forced himself to meet their gazes, one by one. There was doubt in their eyes, doubt he had to remove.
He raised his sword high into the air, turning to face the men and women he led. “I will not bow to Nadir’s tyranny,” he shouted, his voice now hard, defiant. “We fight for what we believe in! We fight for our honour, for each other, and for our home! This is where we will make our stand!”
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The soldiers roared in response, the fire of his words lighting a spark in their hearts. Yet beneath the surface, Oliver felt the gravity of his decision. Refusing to surrender meant death could be the outcome for many, but what kind of life would they live under Nadir? No, better to die with dignity than live in chains.
Stevens shot him a sideways glance, admiration tempered by grim reality. “I hope you’re right, Oliver.”
Oliver’s eyes narrowed, focusing again on the horizon where Nadir’s forces stirred. “I have to be.”
‘‘‘‘
The Belief settlement had refused to yield, now it was time for the consequences.
Nadir’s army loomed on the horizon like a sandstorm ready to descend. The dust cloud had settled, revealing the full extent of Nadir’s forces—hundreds of soldiers, all bearing the banners of the Faith, stood ready for battle.
From his palanquin, Nadir gazed at the settlement walls with a steely, calculating expression. He had no intention of wasting his seasoned warriors on the initial assault. This was a numbers game, and he intended to grind the enemy down. “Send the second-class citizens forward,” he commanded coldly. “Ladders, grappling ropes, everything. They must break the walls.”
The second-class citizens, many still wide-eyed with the weight of their new responsibility, hesitated for only a moment before being forced forward by the stern, unforgiving gaze of Nadir’s lieutenants. This was their chance to become first-class, to rise through the ranks—or die in the attempt. With ladders hoisted and ropes flung over the tall walls, they advanced.
‘‘‘
Oliver, standing on the walls of the Belief Settlement, watched in horror as the swarm of bodies surged forward, pushing ladders toward the walls. “Steady!” he shouted to his troops. “Ready crossbows!”
Stevens, beside him, had his sword out, his face tense with anticipation. “They’re sending the cannon fodder first. The real soldiers are holding back.”
Oliver’s lips pressed into a thin line. “They’re testing our defenses. Make them pay for it.”
At his signal, crossbowmen leaned over the parapets, firing bolts down at the charging mass below.
THWIP! THWIP! THWIP!
The bolts flew, striking the poorly armored second-class citizens. Some fell immediately, screaming in pain, while others clawed their way to the walls, ignoring the carnage around them. A few grappling hooks latched onto the stone barriers, and soon, bodies were clambering up like ants swarming a tree.
“Get those ropes down!” Oliver shouted.
Soldiers with axes and pikes slashed at the ropes, cutting many free, sending climbers plummeting back to the ground.
THUD. THUD.
But for every rope they cut, two more were thrown.
“Ladders!” Stevens cried out, pointing to the left flank where the enemy had managed to prop up several ladders against the walls.
The first wave of attackers hit hard, clambering up with desperation in their eyes, pushing and shoving to be the first over the top.
“FOR THE FAITH!”
The Belief Settlement’s defenders met them with brutal force. Swords clashed, blood sprayed, and bodies tumbled off the walls to the ground below.
THUD. THUD.
But the enemy kept coming, their numbers overwhelming.
“ADVANCE!”
Oliver hacked at the arm of an enemy who had nearly reached the top of the wall. The man screamed as he fell, but another quickly took his place. The defenders were barely holding, the constant barrage of grappling hooks and ladders making it impossible to rest.
“We can’t keep this up much longer,” Stevens gasped, panting as he shoved a ladder off the wall.
“We don’t have a choice!” Oliver spat back, kicking a grappling hook loose. His hand slipped on the blood-soaked stone, but he caught himself just in time. The weight of the attack was pressing harder by the minute.
‘‘‘
The second-class recruits were more than just cannon fodder; they were believers. Each step they took toward the walls of the Belief Settlement was fueled by newborn faith, not just in Nadir but in the promise of something greater. For them, this battle was a test. ‘If we die, we die for the Faith. If we live, we rise.‘
"Keep moving!" one of the lieutenants barked, his voice like a whip. The recruits, barely trained and clutching ropes and makeshift shields, swallowed their fear. In their minds, they repeated the prayers they had been taught, whispered in the quiet moments before the charge.
‘This is our test,‘ one of the recruits thought, his hands trembling on the rope as he swung it toward the wall. ‘We fight here or we fight in the afterlife. There is no escape from this struggle.‘
Another recruit, younger than the rest, barely old enough to be considered a man, glanced up at the towering walls. His heart pounded, but it wasn't fear that drove him—it was purpose. ‘If I fall today, the gates of paradise will open for me. I have served the Faith, and the Faith will not forget me.‘
The sounds of crossbow bolts echoed around them, but even as their comrades fell, they climbed. They whispered verses to themselves, drawing strength from the belief that this was not the end.
THWIP! THWIP! THWIP!
An arrow sliced through the air, catching one of them in the shoulder. He gritted his teeth, his hands still gripping the rope as blood dripped down his arm. He would not let go. He would not fail. The pain was a test, a mere obstacle in his ascent.
‘The Faith rewards perseverance. I will be rewarded.‘ His mind clung to this, even as his vision blurred from the loss of blood.