The old city walls in Thornwick glistened with a cold, bluish-black sheen in the dusk. In the gaps between the bricks, traces of rusted arrowheads from a century ago still remained.

As Matthias stepped onto the battlements, the soles of his boots crunched over the frozen blood crust. Fresh blood dripped from the saber on his waist, and each drop froze the instant it touched the ground.

"Get those oil barrels up here now!" he bellowed.

His face was hardened with fury as he commanded, "Gunners