The stronghold loomed in the distance, its stone walls a beacon of hope and a reminder of the battles they had fought to protect it. As Lucian and his troops approached, they could see the fires burning in the church's camp far behind them. The enemy had been slowed, but not stopped. They would be upon them soon.
Inside the stronghold, the mood was tense. The civilians who had been evacuated to safety now huddled within the fortress's walls, their faces etched with fear and uncertainty. The soldiers, weary but determined, took up their positions on the walls, preparing for the final battle.
Lucian climbed to the top of the battlements, surveying the landscape. The church's forces were on the move, a dark tide rolling toward them. He could see the banners of the crusade, the glint of armor in the moonlight, and the fires that marked their path of destruction.
Beside him, Selene stood silently, her eyes scanning the horizon. "They're coming," she said quietly.