The timing was impeccable. Because the Illusionists had been so fixated on their own perceived brilliance, their reaction to my sudden offence was sluggish and disorganised.
They were like a chess player who had spent so much time admiring their own check that they failed to notice their opponent's queen had already taken their king.
As I closed the distance, I could see my warriors swarming through the shattered remnants of the main gates. They were an unstoppable tide of steel, spilling into the castle's courtyard and catching the defenders in a state of utter disarray.
The initial clash was less of a battle and more of a slaughter; dozens of Illusionists were cut down before they could even weave their first protective charms.
However, the element of surprise is a fleeting currency. Just before my chariot reached the threshold, the silver gate atop the castle's highest spire began to pulse with a blinding, rhythmic light.
