The northern district had become Muscle City's final shield.
Smoke drifted across the walls.
The air smelled of blood, iron, and burning timber.
Soldiers hurried between barricades.
Archers checked their quivers.
Mages refreshed defensive formations.
Engineers loaded the wall-mounted cannons.
Civilians carried ammunition.
Others transported the wounded toward the rear.
No one stood idle.
At the center of it all—
Taai.
His body was wrapped in fresh bandages.
Blood continued to seep through them.
Every breath hurt.
Every movement reminded him of the bullets, blades, and the technique he had forced upon himself to stabilize Kai.
Yet—
He stood straight.
The soldiers immediately gathered around him.
Some saluted.
Others simply waited.
Taai looked across every face.
Young.
Old.
Veterans.
First-time fighters.
Workers.
Blacksmiths.
Teachers.
Parents.
Children barely old enough to hold a spear.
They were afraid.
He could see it.
So he smiled.
"...Good."
Everyone blinked.
"If you're scared..."
"...That means you're still alive."
A few nervous chuckles spread through the ranks.
Taai folded his arms.
"You know why Muscle City exists?"
Silence.
"Because after the First Demon War..."
"...we promised."
"We would never be caught unprepared again."
His voice carried across the wall.
"We trained."
"We lifted."
"We fought."
"We bled."