John had never excelled at running, so when he had to sprint in nearly full war armor, sword and shield in hand while trying to dodge the mass of people also trying to run in the opposite direction to the city center, it made his job of going to the walls all that much harder. Reports of Edian forces invading Eros had reached John only three days ago, and he worried that the situation would escalate.

As John ran through the crowded streets, he found his progress slowed far more than he would have liked. Rounding the latest building, he saw a small group of warriors handing out weapons and gear to men who looked half awake. "At least I don’t look like a fool that they do," John thought with a small grin.

Marvin Hammerfall, a battle-hardened veteran with a commanding presence, was directing the flow of people and supplies with motions of his hammer. Though not the tallest man among them, his scars from past conflicts made him stand out. John felt small compared to Hammerfall despite being nearly half a wall tall.

Hammerfall had a cut on the right side of his bottom lip and two parallel ones an inch long on the side of his head, going an inch into his hairline. He had very short hair, which John found amusing. Close by lay the infamous hammer, "Morning Light," nearly an average man's height with the Hammerfall family's history carved into its side. Hundreds of years were represented on the hammer, yet more than half was still bare, waiting for future generations to etch their great deeds.

"He must feel such power just holding it, knowing all the great men before him," John's mind yearned.

Hammerfall stood on a platform with stairs on either side. By the time John reached the bottom of the platform, even more people had crowded around the soldiers. The desperate citizens pushed and hit one another to get to the supplies, barely controlled by Hammerfall's presence. John watched as the captain walked over to his large war hammer, grabbing it easily and returning to his position on the platform. Curious onlookers stopped pushing and observed the captain's actions.

Some thought Hammerfall would order his troops to attack the people, while others believed he was leaving for the walls to help the defenders. John shared the latter assumption and tried to force himself through the crowd to find an exit. However, when he looked up, he stopped dead in his tracks. Hammerfall gripped Morning Light with both hands and put his right foot forward, preparing to swing.

Unable to do anything, John gripped the handle of his sword tightly as fear filled his eyes. In a sudden burst of anger, Captain Hammerfall swung his hammer, creating a thunderous sound as it struck the stone behind him. The entire crowd, including the soldiers, stopped and stared at him.

In the chaos of war, Hammerfall had created a momentary center of peace. He turned around and, with a voice filled with anger and determination, ordered, "All in need of aid form a line on either side of the stairs." He then beckoned John, commanding, "You, up here now."

The crowd parted to let John approach the captain as quickly as possible. John felt like a child in trouble as he walked up the stairs to meet Hammerfall.

"I'm going to say something, and you will do it," Hammerfall said with authority.

"Sir?" John managed to reply.

"I have thirty men ready to take your orders, even if that's to pretend you are the king. But," Hammerfall turned and pointed to a large watchtower, "that must hold. It's one of the main defenses that are destroying the siege towers trying to send floods of their men onto our walls with men who can barely hold

a sword. It's our job to make sure that tower is never breached. We will hold it until the enemy decides to go home. You will take command of the men and lead them to defend the tower. Understood?"

John swallowed hard, knowing the gravity of the situation. "Understood, sir."

Hammerfall nodded, then gestured to the thirty men waiting nearby. John could see their faces were filled with a mix of anxiety and determination. He realized that he needed to lead by example to inspire these men, so he stood tall and addressed them.

"Listen up, men! I know this is a dire situation, and I know many of you may be scared. But remember, we are the ones standing between our city and the invading Edian forces. We will defend this city and protect our families, our homes, and our way of life. Let's move out!"

John led the men to the watchtower, his heart pounding with adrenaline. As they approached, they could see the Edian forces in the distance, their siege towers looming ominously against the sky. The defenders on the walls were fighting valiantly, but they were clearly struggling to hold back the enemy.

The tower stood tall and proud, a testament to the skill and craftsmanship of the city's builders. Its walls were adorned with intricate carvings of mythical creatures and legendary heroes, and arrow slits allowed defenders to rain death upon attackers from a safe vantage point. As John moved through the tower, he could feel the weight of its history bearing down on him, urging him to defend it with every ounce of his strength.

Once they reached the watchtower, John quickly assessed the situation. He divided his men into three groups: one to reinforce the wall, another to guard the base of the tower, and the last group to man the watchtower itself. He knew that keeping the tower operational was critical to their overall strategy, so he made sure that the defenders had plenty of ammunition for their ranged weapons.

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As John continued his way through the tower, he encountered an injured defender being tended to by a healer, their face a mask of pain and determination. Further on, he passed a group of archers preparing a volley of arrows, their bows creaking as they drew back the strings. Each defender played a crucial role in the defense of the city, and their collective efforts painted a vivid picture of the sacrifice and courage that defined their struggle.

The tower stood tall and proud, a testament to the skill and craftsmanship of the city's builders. Its walls were adorned with intricate carvings of mythical creatures and legendary heroes, and arrow slits allowed defenders to rain death upon attackers from a safe vantage point. As John moved through the tower, he could feel the weight of its history bearing down on him, urging him to defend it with every ounce of his strength, or in this case, retake it.

As the battle raged on, John moved between the groups, offering encouragement and guidance. While checking on the group guarding the base of the tower, he heard a commotion from within the tower itself. Fearing the worst, he raced inside, his sword clutched tightly in his hand. There, he found a formidable Edian soldier, trying to take control of the tower. Their eyes met, and John knew there was no time to waste.

This invader was unlike any John had seen before. His armor was elaborate and well-crafted, adorned with intricate designs and inlaid with precious metals. It was clear that this was no ordinary soldier, but rather a high-ranking Edian commander. The man wore a grim expression and wielded a deadly spiked mace, ready for a brutal confrontation.

As John prepared himself to face the invader with the spiked mace, he couldn't help but recall his years of training and the countless battles he had fought alongside his fellow defenders. He thought about the bonds he had formed with his comrades and the unwavering loyalty they had shown one another in the face of danger. This reminder of his past experiences and the lessons he had learned fueled John's determination to protect his city and its people

John lunged at the invader, his sword whistling through the air. The enemy deftly sidestepped, avoiding the blow, and countered with a vicious swipe of his mace. John narrowly evaded the deadly weapon, feeling its spikes slice through the air just inches from his face.

The two warriors danced around each other, trading blow after blow in a furious exchange of strength and skill. John's strikes were precise, his blade gliding through the air with deadly accuracy. But the enemy commander was no novice either, his mace a whirlwind of crushing force, relentless and unforgiving.

John and the invader with the spiked mace circled each other warily, each waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. The invader's movements were fluid and graceful, like a deadly dance, while John relied on his strength and quick reflexes to counter the blows. They exchanged a flurry of feints and parries, their weapons clashing with a resounding clang that echoed throughout the tower. Each combatant's fighting style was a reflection of their personality and background, a unique blend of skill, cunning, and determination.

As the fight wore on, both men began to tire, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. John knew that this battle could not continue indefinitely, and he needed to find a way to end it. Spotting a brief opening in the commander's defenses, John feinted a strike to the left, drawing his opponent's attention, and then swiftly switched to a low kick.

John guessed his foot could reach the bottom of the man's leg, so he gathered all the force he could and struck the man's leg with his steel boots. The moment transported John back to his youth when he was just a raw recruit under the guidance of his mentor, a grizzled veteran with a wealth of experience. His mentor had taught him the importance of perseverance and loyalty and getting back alive. His mentor once asked him if he would rather fight dirty and come back alive or be a proper fighter and die. He knew he had broken something as soon as he connected. The commander fell, screaming and cursing in pain. John was about to finish him off when he heard Captain Hammerfall's voice.

"Don't kill him, I need him," the captain commanded. Fresh soldiers came and grabbed the injured man.

"So... I am still alive. Can I know the name of the man who tried, and failed, to kill me?" the commander asked, still defiant.

Tain smirked, revealing a row of medals on his chest, a symbol of his numerous successful campaigns in defense of the city. "I've fought off countless enemies for the glory of our homeland. You should know who you're dealing with, boy."

"John," he replied, meeting the man's gaze. "And don't worry, I will make good on that promise."

The captain cut him off, "I do some Impressive work, don't I lad?."

"What are you talking about?" John asked, confused.

"I'm talking about how I have retaken the tower," Hammerfall declared, striding towards him.

"You sent me to capture it after you stopped me from manning my post on the wall," John protested.

Hammerfall walked up to him, "You don't know what you're saying, boy. I am the one who has taken the tower. The cut on your head is making you think things that never happened."

"But—"

Hammerfall gestured to two men with their swords half drawn, "If you keep thinking these thoughts, these men will have to help you remember correctly."

John had nothing left, no energy to argue or even to say a word. He just stared forward as Hammerfall patted his good shoulder. "It's time for you to go, lad."

John forced himself to walk past the captain and through the door. As he exited, he heard the commander, Tain, laughing within the tower.

"Send runners back to the palace and tell them I have retaken the tower," Hammerfall's voice faded as John walked away.

The captain paused for a moment, and his gaze drifted towards the horizon. "This city has stood strong for centuries, from the earliest days of our kingdom. Its walls have withstood countless sieges and repelled invaders from every corner of the world. Today, we carry on that proud legacy, ensuring that our people and our history remain unbroken."

He didn't know how long he walked, his mind a whirl of confusion and pain. Should he go back? Get help for his wounds? All he could do was keep walking, each step a struggle against the exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm him.

As John dragged himself along the base of the wall, he felt a strange vibration. Pressing his ear against the cold stone, the rumbling grew louder and more insistent. The sensation seemed to envelop him, drowning out all thoughts of the day's events and forcing him to focus on the deep, resonant tremors that shook the very foundation of the fortress.

Suddenly, a deafening crash echoed through the air as a battering ram burst through the wall, showering John with shards of stone and debris. He barely had time to register the shock and pain before everything went black, his consciousness slipping away into the darkness.