The great battle line of the combined-arms phalanxes advanced on Cynthia at a steady pace of some twenty li per hour. They were forced to maintain this deliberate speed, for no army had ever before attempted to haul siege engines weighing well over ten tons across such vast distances on an active field of battle. The ten phalanxes maintained synchronized movement until the Third Phalanx's siege engine began lagging behind, its wheel splintering under the immense weight—marking Godma's first setback in their assault.

  Von Hohenstern, the Third Phalanx commander, responded with decisive efficiency. He ordered the immediate severing of all one hundred forty draught lines harnessing the powerful war horses, then commanded the infantry to abandon their troop wagons and mount the liberated steeds, sacrificing the trebuchet entirely. With spurs digging deep, they galloped forward to rejoin the main force. The first wave's siege capabilities had been reduced to nine functional engines.

  A contingent of Pafaheim soldiers—twenty-four hundred strong—had established defensive positions nearly twenty li from the gate. Their advantageous vantage point, complemented by signal relays from wall observers, provided early warning of the approaching Godman cavalry. Earl Alofenk, commanding the forward defenses, issued orders for a strategic withdrawal of five kilometers to consolidate with the Second Line forces. There, at ten li from the city gate, they worked with frantic haste to improve upon the crude fortifications already in place, driving sharpened stakes deep into the earth and digging out a sprawling network of trenches. The Second Line now boasted nearly five thousand defenders.

  Observing the Cynthian withdrawal, and despite the cautionary example of the Third Phalanx, Morgan Frankenstein, commander of Godma's First Cavalry Phalanx, ordered an acceleration in pace, pressing beyond Wafflo's now-abandoned first defensive line. In an attempt to sow chaos and disrupt the enemy's relentless advance, Earl Alofenk of Cynthia dispatched a company of five hundred horsemen to launch a surprise raid on the Godman phalanx. This force bifurcated, executing a pincer movement against the Fourth Phalanx from both flanks—yet under Lord Tester's masterful command, the Fourth Phalanx neutralized this threat with minimal disruption to their advance. The mounted archers alone—most hailing from the Borna Plains and the highlands surrounding Tangabul, renowned for their equestrian marksmanship—felled nearly one hundred Cynthian riders.

  The Godman battle line surged beyond Wafflo's first defenses. Witnessing his cavalry raid fail to return, Earl Alofenk ordered another strategic retreat. The defenders fell back to a new line six li out from the Gate of Cynthia, what was meant to be the last bulwark for the defense of Wafflo--or so they had believed at the time. The soldiers garrisoned at this position watched Alofenk's approaching forces with mounting trepidation. They had been forced to abandon the Second Line's defenses, leaving that dense web of sharpened stakes and crisscrossing trenches to do its bloody work alone, without men to hold it. The Pafaheim forces now consolidated at the final defensive line numbered eleven thousand strong.

  The leading Godman phalanx encountered the Second Line defenses. To preserve formation integrity, each unit carefully navigated around trenches and stake fields, necessarily reducing their advance speed. Stragglers occasionally lost mounts to the treacherous trenches, resulting in riders being catapulted onto waiting stakes. Only the Third Phalanx, unburdened by its trebuchet, maintained aggressive forward momentum. The Cynthian defensive fortifications—concentrated between the positions of the Fourth and Sixth Phalanxes due to faulty intelligence regarding the Godman attack frontage—proved unexpectedly ineffective against the broader assault. Upon receiving breathless reports from scouts nearly collapsing from exertion, Alofenk learned the Godman forces had penetrated the Second Line with reduced velocity. He immediately called for the Wall of Cynthia to demonstrate its legendary might.

  The primary defensive battery arrayed upon the Wall above the main gate consisted of thirty-five heavy trebuchets and twenty-five great ballistae. Four of the trebuchets, however, were inoperable from long neglect, a fact which had prompted a dry jest from the Duke of Pafaheim about kicking the quartermaster from the top of the wall. These engines represented virtually the entirety of Cynthia's heavy defensive artillery—five centuries of peace had seen their ancestors' war machines gradually cannibalized for civilian construction. The Cynthian trebuchets stood ninety feet high, each demanding a crew of thirty to forty men to operate. Ever since the last of the Dwarven master-smiths had departed their lands, Cynthian artisans had proven incapable of replicating such massive and intricate engines of war. Vice-commander Sir Harvey ordered the first volley released, though few operators harbored genuine confidence in striking targets nearly ten li distant. Their pessimism proved warranted—the projectiles failed to achieve even basic range requirements, falling approximately eight li from the walls. Harvey immediately ordered lighter ammunition, prioritizing the disabling of the Godman trebuchets over maximum impact damage.

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  The second bombardment presented a legitimate threat to the Godman formations. The reduced-weight projectiles barely achieved a nine-li range, bringing all Godman units except the Seventh and Ninth Phalanxes within striking distance. Morgan, positioned at the formation's vanguard, withdrew a long spyglass to track incoming projectiles' trajectories and predict impact zones. Such a method would be all but useless in a typical siege, but here, during the great Siege of Cynthia, it proved strangely effective -- for the exceptional height of the Wall and its engines meant the stone projectiles spent a longer time in the air. Each phalanx commander had mere seconds to assess, decide, and direct their units to evade incoming stones—a responsibility entrusted only to the most elite Grey Knight officers. Individual cavalrymen monitored the movements of riders ahead, adjusting their own course accordingly—the most efficient evasive methodology available. While none could guarantee this approach's effectiveness, it represented their sole means of protecting the invaluable siege engines. The First Phalanx successfully avoided two projectiles through a leftward maneuver, though their survival owed as much to Cynthian inaccuracy as to tactical acumen. The Ninth Phalanx encountered less favorable circumstances—four massive stones arced toward their position. Captain Bollede, momentarily paralyzed by indecision, maintained their forward course. Two projectiles struck their formation with devastating effect—killing all horses drawing their trebuchet, immobilizing the engine in a trench, and violently dislodging over two hundred cavalry and three troop transports from the right flank. This represented Godma's second significant setback of the campaign, reducing their operational siege engines to eight.

  The defensive bombardment's overall effectiveness proved disappointing. Subsequent volleys yielded minimal results. Sir Harvey could hear the frustrated curses of the men around him -- their aim was falling far short of what was needed. He began to grimly wonder if the quartermaster had even bothered to properly sight in these ancient contraptions before the battle. The Godman forces had closed to within four li of the gate; defenders at the final line could physically sense the approaching cavalry through the rhythmic vibration of pounding hooves and rising dust clouds. After rapid deliberation, Sir Harvey implemented a tactical adjustment without awaiting formal authorization. Following the sixth conventional volley, an ominous silence descended upon the wall—momentarily relieving the advancing phalanxes while intensifying the apprehension of Raveirmom Dear observing from the watchtower, who anticipated the worst. His foreboding proved justified—the next barrage erupted from the walls as a devastating cloud of stone fragments, blanketing the battlefield like a ravenous locust swarm. Harvey had switched to fragmentation ammunition; each trebuchet now launched between one hundred and one hundred fifty smaller stones per volley. The battlefield erupted in agonized screams—this area-effect bombardment catching the Godman forces completely unprepared. While the fragments lacked sufficient mass to damage the trebuchets directly, they proved devastatingly effective against draft horses and exposed personnel. As the dust settled, every phalanx except the Fourth and Sixth had sustained significant casualties. Captain Gloucester of the Seventh Phalanx had his black charger's skull shattered by a direct fragment impact, violently ejecting him before his horrified men. Whether any attempted to swerve or rein in their mounts was irrelevant; all knew he was lost, another broken body upon the field, another soul claimed by the rain of deadly stone. Fortunately for the Godman advance, their remaining trebuchets continued forward with the formations.