The crack of a rifle split the chaos.
Chris staggered back as the bullet punched into his chest — but instead of blood, there was only the thud of metal and the hiss of a flattened round bouncing off stone. Beneath his tunic, the hidden vest had taken the shot.
The wall went silent for a heartbeat.
The King had been struck.
Soren's roar shattered the air.
"SHIELD THE KING!"
He lunged forward, sword raised, standing over Chris like a beast unleashed. His eyes scanned the enemy lines with murder in them. BAM men surged, forming a human wall.
Daniel's voice carried next, sharp as steel.
"Archers — FIND THAT SNIPER! Cut them down!"
He stepped to Chris's side, blade drawn, shield up. Where Soren was raw rage, Daniel was iron focus. Together, they closed the circle around their King.
Chris straightened slowly, vest dented, his cloak torn. His face was calm — too calm. That silence spread heavier than thunder. The armies on both sides felt it.
"Someone," Chris said at last, voice cold as frost, "believed a bullet could kill Blackwood."
The men closest to him shivered. Soldiers, BAM, even the enemy ladders faltered mid-climb.
Chris's eyes swept the wall — not in fear, but in promise. A silent vow that blood would answer this insult.
Soren barked, veins bulging.
"Mark every sniper nest — burn them alive!"
Daniel raised his hand, signaling squads already shifting, disciplined and swift. His mind worked faster than fire. If they touched the King once, they'll try again. No gap, no weakness. The throne must breathe, or Karion falls.
And through it all, Chris stood straight, his hand brushing the dented vest. Then, softly enough only Soren and Daniel could hear:
"Good."
Both men turned, confusion flashing.
Chris's lips curled into the faintest smile.
"Now… they've given me the excuse I wanted."
The storm wasn't the enemy outside. The storm was already standing on the wall.
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