A County Soldier was struck in the chest by an Orc Infantry's iron axe; his sternum shattered, and he spat out fresh blood.

He lunged forward, grabbing the Orc Infantry's waist, and pushed with all his might toward the edge of the city wall.

The Orc Infantry smashed a fist into the back of his head, blurring his vision instantly, but he didn't let go, his feet digging into the wall bricks as he pushed forward step by step.

The two of them fell together from the forty-meter-high city wall.

The fall took about three seconds; from a height of forty meters, the fall damage was over 300 points.

The Orc Infantry, with less than half health, slammed into the ground and died on the spot.

The County Soldier's body fell beside it, his neck twisted at an impossible angle, but his hands were still locked onto the Orc Infantry's belt.

"Mutual destruction!" The defenders on the city wall let out a roar, and even more people lunged forward.

A level ten Awakened had his right hand chopped off by an Orc Centurion's double-edged battle-axe; he pulled out a dagger from behind him with his left hand and stabbed it into the Centurion's eye.

In pain, the Centurion shoved him off the city wall with one palm.

During the fall, he pulled out the dagger, a line of blood spraying all the way down from the forty-meter height.

A young Delhi Sultanate ordinary infantryman, his shield shattered and scimitar broken, grabbed an Orc Infantry with his bare hands, and the two rolled off the city wall together.

On the way down, he bit down hard on the Orc Infantry's ear, not letting go until they hit the ground.

At the base of the wall, the piles of defenders' corpses and Orc corpses were stacked together, making it impossible to tell who was who.

At twelve noon, the durability of the purple west gate dropped below seven thousand under the relentless strikes of the battering ram.

A strike every minute made the defensive runes flicker violently each time.

The iron plating began to deform, rivets loosened, and the light leaking through the cracks in the door grew brighter and brighter.

At one in the afternoon, the purple gate in front of the barbican collapsed with a crash, and the Orc Army cheered as they surged into the barbican, only to be attacked from all directions.

From the walls on both sides and the battlements above the gate, the defenders rained down rolling logs, poured boiling oil, shot arrows, and threw Ice Burst Potions.

The Orcs in the barbican had nowhere to hide and fell in swaths.

The inner gate of the barbican was still of purple quality, its defensive runes intact.

When the Orcs rushed to the inner gate and found another city gate blocking their way, their faces turned [N O V E L I G H T] grim.

The battering ram was pushed into the barbican and began striking the inner gate.

But the space in the barbican was too small and there were too many Orcs; the battering ram had to be repositioned after every strike, making it at least fifty percent less efficient than yesterday.

At three in the afternoon, the War Lord glanced at the battle in the barbican from the air, remained silent for a moment, and did not order a retreat.

At five in the afternoon, as dusk fell, the defenders on the wall had already rotated through three shifts, the reserves were almost exhausted, and the durability of the barbican's inner gate was down to half.

At six in the evening, the War Lord finally waved his hand.

The Orc Army receded like a tide, and the battering ram was dragged out of the barbican, its iron chains dragging a deep groove into the ground.

The defenders on the city wall slumped to the ground; some were crying, some were laughing, and some held onto their comrades' corpses, refusing to let go.

More people silently picked themselves up, leaning against the battlements, staring expressionlessly at the green tide receding into the western twilight.

Lin Feng landed on top of the gate tower, his Wildfire Spear covered in black blood.

His stamina consumption was significant, but he could still hold on.

Ali Khan was the last to land; his silver-white chainmail had several more dents, and the edge of his white cloak had been sliced off by sword qi.

"Casualty numbers." His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing against metal.

Hassan walked over, unfurled a piece of parchment, and said in a low voice: "Delhi Sultanate Elite Infantry: one thousand one hundred dead, one thousand three hundred wounded.

Delhi Sultanate Ordinary Infantry: two thousand one hundred dead, one thousand eight hundred wounded.

County Soldiers: four thousand four hundred dead, two thousand two hundred wounded.

Level ten and above Awakened: four thousand eight hundred dead, two thousand five hundred wounded."

Silence hung over the gate tower for a long time.

The wind blew, carrying the scent of blood and char; no one spoke.

...

By the time Lin Feng returned to his small courtyard, the night was deep.

The water in the hot spring pool was still steaming; he took off his clothes, sat inside, leaned against the pool wall, and closed his eyes.

Those numbers replayed repeatedly in his mind; in a single day, twelve thousand four hundred people had died.

The casualties were more than double yesterday's, and there were few people left in the reserves with any combat capability.

The Holy City's final reserves were those two hundred thousand Awakened below level ten and the newly arrived Adventurers.

But those people were only level five, six, or seven; their equipment was mostly grey or white, and some even held novice wooden clubs.

Letting them onto the city wall was no different from sending them to their deaths.

But tomorrow, they must go.

Because tomorrow, the reinforcements from Russia would arrive. As long as they could hold out through tomorrow's daylight until the reinforcements arrived, at the moment of the final battle, all the sacrifices would have meaning.

If they couldn't hold out, Kara Holy City would be the next Jinzhou City, and Tieba Kingdom would be the next Korea.

Lin Feng opened his eyes, stood up from the pool, dried his body with a towel, put on his leather armor, and walked back to the bed.

He lay down, staring at the ceiling.

Tomorrow would be the final day.

...

The third day, nine in the morning.

The sun still rose from behind the snow-capped mountains, its light shining on the western wall of Kara Holy City and on the blood-soaked, exhausted defenders.

The Orc horns sounded once more, and the green tide surged from the west, even more ferocious than the previous two days.

Only three Mammoth War Elephants remained, but each was clad in heavy iron armor, the barbed iron blades on their tusks stained with dried black blood.

The wolf-headed iron hammer of the battering ram was covered in cracks, but every strike still made the city gate's defensive runes tremble violently.

There were fewer scaling ladders and siege towers, but the climbing Orcs were even more frenzied, coming one after another.

On the city wall, fewer than three thousand Delhi Sultanate Elite Infantry remained, fewer than two thousand ordinary infantry, fewer than two thousand County Soldiers who could still stand, and fewer than eight thousand Awakened of level ten or above.

Everyone stood in their assigned positions; no one retreated, no one fled.

In the air, the high-level figures from both sides took to the sky again.

Liu Zhenshan and Ali Khan once again fought the War Lord together, their greatsword and scimitar clashing a hundred meters in the air.

The Sword Saints fought with Hamza, Hassan, Zayn, and Lin Feng, their sword qi and spear light exploding in bursts of flame.

The Prophet was in the back casting heals, while Faizan was in the back adding defense.

The Orc War Lord parried Liu Zhenshan's greatsword with his battle-axe while scanning the city wall out of the corner of his eye.

His intention was clear: as long as he and the Sword Saints could tie down these few powerful humans, the army of thirty thousand on the ground could crush the defenders with sheer strength.

The city gate had already been breached once, and the second barbican gate wouldn't last long either.

He didn't need to defeat these people in front of him; he only needed to prevent them from being able to leave and support the city wall.