The Hollow of Skulls transformed instantly from a tense negotiation ground into a cage of panic.

  "They have the ridges!" Vron of the Red Hands shrieked, backing away from the fire. "We are trapped! Every tribe for itself! Flee to the Goat Paths!"

  "Stand and fight!" Karsen roared, swinging his greatsword at the dark shapes descending the slope. "Charge them! Die like men!"

  The tribal coalition was fracturing before the battle had even begun. Warriors were shoving each other, eyes wide with terror, turning their backs on the enemy to scramble toward the narrow, choked exits.

  "Stop!" Zark shouted, grabbing Vron by the shoulder, but the Red Hand chieftain threw him off. "Let me go, Zark! That is Krag! That is death!"

  Kaelen didn't shout. He moved.

  He drew his longsword. A pulse of Silver Battleforce—the unmistakable mark of a Steel Rank warrior—flared from his body. It wasn't the overwhelming ocean of a master, but it was sharp, cold, and commanding. He stepped to the nearest iron brazier and kicked it over with a crash that sent sparks spraying across the chieftains' boots.

  "Silence!" Kaelen commanded, his voice amplified by his aura.

  The sheer audacity of the Lowlander froze them for a heartbeat.

  "Look at them," Kaelen hissed, pointing his glowing blade at the ridge. "Really look at them."

  The Stone Walkers were descending. But it wasn't just their heavy armor that terrified the eye. It was the light.

  Around each of the hundred lead figures, a faint silver mist clung like a second skin.

  "Steel Rank," Karsen whispered, the blood draining from his face. "All of them. A hundred Steel Rank warriors..."

  "Exactly," Kaelen said, his voice hard as flint. "You have One thousand warriors, Karsen. But against a hundred Steel Rankers in a chaotic charge? You are meat. They will cut through you like a scythe through wheat. If you charge, you die. If you run, they catch you on the paths and butcher you from behind."

  "Then we are dead anyway!" Rogh wailed.

  "No," Kaelen snapped. "We are only dead if we play their game. Zark! Tell them! You saw what I did to the Vanguard!"

  Zark stepped forward, his face grey but his eyes burning. "The Lowlander speaks truth! He broke Gorak's line! Listen to him, you fools, or Krag will be drinking wine from your skulls by dawn!"

  Karsen looked at the descending wall of silver and iron. He looked at his son Derek, shivering near the horses. He spat on the ground.

  "Command then, Lowlander," Karsen growled. "But if your plan fails, I will kill you before they do."

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  "Deal," Kaelen said.

  He turned to the slope. The Stone Walkers were slow, deliberate. Behind them, three hundred regular Stone Eater warriors waited to exploit the breach.

  "Karsen," Kaelen ordered. "Take the Black Fangs. Form a shield wall at the bottom of the slope. Do not attack. Just hold. You are the anvil."

  "Vron! Rogh!" Kaelen barked. "Take your slingers and spear-throwers to the rocky flanks. Do not aim for the men—their Battleforce will deflect it. Aim for the ground. Disrupt their footing. Make them stumble."

  "And us?" Zark asked, gripping his axe.

  "We are the hammer," Kaelen said. "We wait for the crack in the armor."

  The chieftains scrambled to obey, fear transmuted into desperate action. The Black Fangs slammed their shields together, forming a pitifully thin line of wood against the oncoming glacier of steel.

  Kaelen stood his ground, watching the enemy descend. The thud-thud-thud of iron boots was getting louder. The silver auras of the Stone Walkers merged into a blinding wall of pressure.

  He needed an edge. A hundred Steel Rankers against a Low Steel Ranker and a mob was a mathematical impossibility. Unless the math was wrong.

  He focused his gaze on the lead Stone Walker. He pushed his [Administrative Oversight] skill beyond its intended use, forcing it to analyze the military unit as if it were a failing resource node.

  [Skill Activated: Tactical Analysis]

  The world turned grey. The enemies glowed red.

  [Target Unit: Stone Walker Elite]

  Count: 100

  Rank: Steel (Low to Mid)

  Equipment: 'Deep Iron' Full Plate.

  Status: Overconfident / rigid formation.

  The System drilled deeper.

  [Critical Structural Flaw Detected]

  Item: Deep Iron Armor.

  Analysis: To contain the pressure of Steel Rank Battleforce, the armor is forged in a single, seamless piece without internal leather dampening.

  Weakness: Harmonic Resonance.

  Effect: The armor acts as a bell. High-decibel sonic vibration will bypass physical defense and Battleforce shielding, directly attacking the inner ear and equilibrium.

  Kaelen’s eyes widened.

  They are wearing bells.

  They sacrificed padding for magical durability. They were invulnerable to swords, but vulnerable to sound.

  He looked around frantically. He saw the piles of discarded iron weapons—rusty axes, spare shields, hammers—lying in the Ash Wolf camp.

  "Zarn!" Kaelen grabbed the heir’s shoulder. "Get your reserves! Every man who isn't on the line!"

  "To fight?" Zarn asked, raising his axe.

  "To make noise!" Kaelen screamed over the approaching thunder of boots. "Grab hammers! Grab rocks! Beat on the iron piles! When I signal, I want you to make the mountain scream!"

  Zarn looked confused, but the sheer conviction in Kaelen’s eyes moved him. He bellowed orders. Hundreds of Ash Wolf warriors rushed to the weapon piles, hefting clubs and rocks.

  On the slope, the Stone Walkers were twenty paces away. Their Steel auras flared. They raised their warhammers, ready to smash the Black Fang shield wall into splinters.

  "NOW!" Kaelen roared, flaring his own aura to the max. "BEAT THE DRUMS OF WAR!"

  Zarn smashed his axe flat against a pile of iron shields.

  CLANG.

  Five hundred warriors followed suit.

  CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!

  The sound was hideous. A discordant, high-pitched screech of metal on metal that bounced off the crater walls, amplifying a thousand times. It wasn't music; it was a sonic assault.

  The effect on the Stone Walkers was instantaneous.

  The front rank of the elite infantry didn't just stop; they convulsed.

  The Deep Iron armor picked up the vibration. The sound waves bypassed their silver Battleforce auras and hammered directly into their skulls. Men who could shrug off a boulder to the chest suddenly dropped their weapons, clutching their helmets, screaming silently as their balance centers were scrambled.

  The perfect wall of silver light flickered and died as their concentration broke.

  A Stone Walker stumbled, his legs turning to jelly. He fell forward into the loose shale, taking two others down with him. The formation shattered.

  Kaelen saw the opening. The invulnerable gods were suddenly just men rolling in the dirt, deaf and dizzy.

  He pointed his sword at the tangled mass of steel.

  "THEIR SHIELDS ARE DOWN!" Kaelen’s voice cut through the ringing air. "ATTACK"