Reinventing Magic: An Inventor's Tale-Chapter 80: The Siege of Gorath

The fortress trembled as the monstrous horde surged forward, a writhing tide of chitin, scales, and fangs. The sheer number of creatures was enough to make even the hardiest of warriors falter.

The dwarves standing atop the Iron Shield Wall, Gorath’s first line of defense, gripped their weapons tightly, their knuckles white as they took in the nightmarish sight before them.

"Man the walls! Load the cannons an’ fire at will!" bellowed a grizzled dwarf with a voice like grinding stone.

The fortress walls shook as massive cannons fired in unison, the thunderous blasts sending explosive shells into the advancing swarm. Bodies were torn asunder, but the enemy was relentless, crawling over their fallen kin as they pushed forward with mindless determination.

A burly dwarf, his beard thick and matted with soot, tightened his grip on his twin axes. "By the flames o’ the forge, where in the bloody depths did these beasts crawl from?!" freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

Another dwarf, an elder with streaks of silver in his hair, pointed to the sky. His voice trembled, not with fear, but with deep foreboding.

"That ominous thing hangin’ above the sky... it ain’t natural. I wager it’s got somethin’ to do with this madness!"

High above, the sky had been split asunder. A gaping rift, its edges crackling with malevolent energy, pulsed with an unnatural glow.

From its depths, an enormous, winged monstrosity emerged. Its alien form defied natural order—its glowing chest pulsing in rhythm with the waves of creatures pouring through the breach.

With every breath, a pulse of light traveled from its tail to its core, growing brighter as it prepared to unleash its devastation.

"Ancestors save us," a dwarf whispered, eyes wide in terror.

"How in the name o’ the stone are we supposed to fight that?!"

"Load the damn cannons! Bring that beast down afore it reaches the walls!" came the command from a stout, battle-hardened officer.

The cannons were aimed, barrels glowing as they prepared another devastating volley. But before they could fire, the beast let out an earth-shaking roar.

The glow in its chest reached its peak, and in a blinding flash, it released its breath attack. A massive beam of raw energy tore through the air, crashing into the fortress wall.

The impact was cataclysmic. The runic barrier erected by the dwarven runepriests flared brilliantly in an attempt to absorb the blow, but the sheer power of the attack overwhelmed it.

The wall exploded in a deafening blast, sending debris and dwarven warriors flying. The battlefield was consumed by fire and dust, and even the monstrous creatures below were caught in the destruction.

A moment of stunned silence followed before the horrifying truth set in—their first line of defense had fallen.

Back within the heart of Gorath, the great halls of the dwarven citadel were alive with the sounds of hurried footsteps and urgent voices.

Within the war council chamber, King Duraz Ironfist sat upon his massive stone throne, his thick fingers drumming against the armrest as he listened to the grim report.

"Sire, the Iron Shield Wall has fallen," a breathless scout announced, kneeling before the king. "The monsters be pourin’ through the breach, headin’ straight for the Anvil Bastion!"

The war room fell deathly silent. The Anvil Bastion—Gorath’s second line of defense—was all that stood between the enemy and the city itself.

King Duraz exhaled sharply, his grip tightening around the handle of his war axe. "Then we make our stand there, lads. Send word to all available forces. We ain’t lettin’ these filthy beasts set foot in our halls, not while there’s breath in our lungs an’ steel in our hands!"

The chamber erupted into a flurry of movement as messengers dashed off to relay the king’s orders. The great horns of Gorath sounded, their deep, resonant calls echoing through the mountain halls.

The dwarves would fight, as they always had, with steel, fire, and the unbreakable resolve of their ancestors.

And somewhere, beyond the breach in the sky, something watched—waiting, calculating. The true descent of darkness had only just begun.

Deep within the Anvil Bastion, Master Engineer Thalrik paced the stone corridors, barking orders at his apprentices. "Get them thunderbusses loaded! We’ll not let those bastards take another inch!"

The Anvil Bastion was no mere wall—it was a fortress within the fortress, bristling with artillery and mechanized defenses, the heart of Gorath’s last great war efforts. Gears turned, massive ballistae were cranked into place, and barrels of black powder were lined along the parapets.

"We’ll hold ’em here, lads! Let the bastards taste dwarven steel an’ fire!" Thalrik roared.

As the enemy horde surged through the shattered outer defenses, the dwarves unleashed hell. Blazing runic projectiles, exploding shells, and torrents of molten metal poured from the walls, cutting down the creatures in droves.

Yet, through the carnage, the winged monstrosity loomed above, its terrible form blotting out the light.

Thalrik’s eyes narrowed. "We need to take that thing down, or we’re done fer. Where’s that mad fool, Durnek?"

A nearby dwarf smirked. "Last I saw, he was tinkerin’ with the Skyhammer. Says he’s got a plan."

Durnek Ironflare, an eccentric yet brilliant inventor, was Gorath’s best—and most reckless—engineer. If anyone could bring down the beast, it was him.

Durnek sprinted up the stone steps toward the battlement, his soot-streaked face alight with manic excitement. He had just finished tinkering with his latest masterpiece—the Sky Hammer, a devastating anti-air cannon designed to counter airborne threats.

His heart pounded with exhilaration as he reached the top, wiping sweat from his brow with a gloved hand. His wild grin spread as he turned to his longtime friend, Thalrik.

"I made it in time!" he bellowed, his voice barely audible over the roar of the battle below.

Thalrik shot him an unimpressed look.

"Took ye long enough," he grumbled, gripping his war axe tightly.

Then, his gaze turned toward the winged monstrosity that loomed in the sky. Its glowing chest pulsed ominously as it prepared another devastating attack.

"We need tae defend this fortress, Durnek, or those blasted creatures’ll be crawlin’ all the way tae the capital!"

Durnek smirked, clapping Thalrik on the shoulder.

"Ye’ll be amazed once ye see what me latest creation can do."

He then turned to his assistant, a young dwarf covered in oil and soot, and barked, "Prepare the Sky Hammer!"

The assistant hurried to the controls, activating the cannon’s arcane mechanisms. The Sky Hammer wasn’t just any ordinary cannon—it was the culmination of years of research and innovation, infused with powerful mana crystals to supercharge its payload.

Durnek had built it as a failsafe should another dragon ever attack their city. The last time a beast had descended upon Gorath, their defenses had barely managed to drive it away, leaving the city in ruins.

But this time, they were prepared.

With a loud hum, the Sky Hammer powered up, its mana crystal flaring to life. The cannon’s massive barrel glowed with energy, locking onto the airborne creature as it circled above the battlefield.

"As soon as it gets close, fire at will!" Durnek commanded.

"Ayt!" his assistant responded, gripping the firing lever.

The winged beast, sensing the concentrated mana signature, turned its head sharply toward them. With a guttural screech, it opened its maw and began to charge another breath attack, raw energy crackling between its fanged jaws.

"It’s in range! Fire!" Durnek roared.

The Sky Hammer released a thunderous blast, a concentrated beam of mana-infused energy streaking toward the beast.

At that exact moment, the creature unleashed its own attack. The two forces collided midair, creating a blinding explosion that sent shockwaves rippling across the battlefield.

The sheer force of the blast sent the crawling creatures below flying, their grotesque forms tumbling through the air like ragdolls.

But as the dust settled, the enemy horde regrouped, their numbers seemingly endless. They clawed and scratched at the fortress walls, some piling atop their fallen brethren to form a monstrous living ladder.

Durnek wiped soot from his face and let out a victorious laugh.

"Whew! Me Sky Hammer’s a success!"

Thalrik smacked him on the back of the head.

"Ye idiot! Keep firin’! We ain’t done yet!"

Durnek let out a chuckle before signaling his assistant.

"Aye!, charge it up again! We’re not lettin’ that beast take another breath!"

The air crackled with raw energy as the Sky Hammer’s blast dissipated, leaving the monstrous winged creature momentarily staggered. Smoke curled around its massive frame, its otherworldly hide absorbing most of the attack.

"A direct hit. Hahaha! That’s fer ye messin’ with us dwarves, ye stinkin’ flyin’ lizard!" Durnek roared triumphantly, his soot-covered face breaking into a broad grin.

Thalrik, standing beside him, was less enthusiastic. With a swift motion, he smacked Durnek upside the head.

"Ye fool, that thing ain’t a dragon. Look at it! It looks like somethin’ else entirely."

"It ain’t?" Durnek blinked, rubbing the back of his head. His assistant, still gripping the controls, gulped audibly.

However, before Durnek could retort, the creature unfurled its wings with a piercing shriek. Its defenses had absorbed most of the damage, and it was still airborne.

"What in the name o’ the stone—"

"Fool! Yer weapon did not work! What do we do now?!" Thalrik barked, gripping his war axe tighter as the beast veered toward them once more.

"Let’s keep on firin’!" Durnek turned to his assistant. "Charge the cannon again!"

The assistant paled as he examined the Sky Hammer.

"Uh, Chief... it ain’t workin’ no more."

"What?" Durnek spun around, his grin fading as he noticed the crack running along the main mana crystal. The weapon had overcharged.

The beast, sensing an opportunity, swooped low, its chest pulsating as it prepared to unleash another devastating breath attack.

"Thalrik..." Durnek muttered, watching in horror as the beast’s attack neared completion.

"Ye’ve doomed us, ye fool," Thalrik growled, raising his axe in defiance.

Just as the monster reared its head back to fire, a sudden explosion rocked its left flank. A shockwave of energy sent it reeling, its screech echoing through the battlefield.

Durnek, squinting through the smoke and debris, spotted a shadow moving swiftly in the sky. Something metallic, sleek, and unlike anything he had seen before. "What is that thing?" he muttered in awe.

Thalrik followed his gaze. "What ye talkin’ about?"

"Look at its left—there’s another one flyin’."

Thalrik frowned as he took in the sight. The silhouette wasn’t monstrous—it was structured, controlled. A vessel.

"That ain’t a monster," Durnek breathed. "That’s a flyin’ vessel."

The answer became clear as the object emerged from the smoke, its metallic hull gleaming against the battlefield’s chaotic glow. The Skyward Sentinel had arrived.

From within the floating ship, Kael Bryndis stood at the command deck, his sharp eyes assessing the battlefield. "Looks like we arrived just in time."

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