The failure of the night infiltration acted as the final catalyst for the Duke's command. With his specialized assets neutralized and his financial reserves hemorrhaging to maintain a thousand-man camp in the frontier, the Duke opted for a total kinetic resolution. At dawn, the earth began to groan under the weight of three massive siege towers, constructed from seasoned oak and draped in raw, wet hides to mitigate fire risk. These were the primary delivery systems for his professional mercenaries, designed to bridge the gap between the ground and Kael's ramparts, negating the height advantage of the stone bastions.
Kael stood at the center of the northern wall, his gaze fixed on the slow, ponderous advance of the towers. He did not order an immediate volley. Instead, he utilized the time to conduct a final diagnostic of the defense grid. He communicated with the ballista crews and the crossbow squads using the established signal flag protocols, ensuring every station was manned and every reserve bolt was within reach. The five hundred citizens were at their highest state of readiness, their movements rhythmic and devoid of the frantic energy that usually precedes a slaughter.
The Duke's strategy was a classic multi-pronged assault. The three towers were spaced two hundred yards apart, advancing behind a screen of five hundred levy infantry carrying heavy pavise shields. This numerical mass was intended to saturate Kael's firing lanes, forcing the defenders to choose between targeting the infantry or the towers. Simultaneously, a secondary battery of light mangonels in the enemy camp began lobbing stones into the village interior, a psychological effort to disrupt the logistical flow from the Kiln and the Iron Works.
"Ignore the infantry screen," Kael commanded, his voice broadcast through a simple iron speaking trumpet. "The levy is a variable of distraction. Focus all primary battery fire on the structural supports of the central tower. Crossbow squads, maintain suppression on the archer slits of the flanking towers."
Kael's tactical assessment was based on structural weak points. He had identified that the siege towers, while armored with hides, relied on a complex internal framework of wooden cross-beams to maintain their height. If the primary support beams were sheared, the entire structure would succumb to its own top-heavy center of gravity.
"Range four hundred yards," the lead ballista technician reported.
"Wait for three hundred and fifty," Kael replied. "We need maximum kinetic penetration to bypass the wet hides."
When the central tower reached the three-hundred-and-fifty-yard marker, Kael gave the signal. The three heavy ballistae fired a synchronized volley of iron-shod bolts. The impact was audible even over the roar of the advancing army—a deep, splintering crack as the six-foot projectiles punched through the hide layers and embedded themselves into the primary vertical supports. The central tower shuddered, its forward momentum stalling as the internal framework began to groan under the uneven stress.
The flanking towers continued their advance, their archers pouring a steady stream of arrows onto the ramparts. However, Kael's standardized brigandine kits proved their worth. The iron plates riveted into the leather vests deflected the majority of the incoming fire, allowing the citizen-soldiers to remain at their posts and maintain a disciplined return volley. The standardized crossbows, with their superior draw weight and uniform bolts, began to pick off the mercenary archers through the narrow slits of the towers.
"The central tower is leaning three degrees to the west," Kael observed. "Target the forward axle assembly. We will trip the machine."
The next ballista volley was aimed low. One bolt struck the massive wooden wheel of the central tower, shattering the axle and sending the entire ten-ton structure lurching forward. The momentum of the push-teams behind it, unable to stop, forced the tower to pivot on its broken base. With a slow, terrifying roar of rending timber, the central tower collapsed sideways, crushing the infantry screen beneath it and creating a massive, smoking barrier of debris that blocked the path of the Duke's central advance.
The destruction of the central tower caused an immediate break in the levy infantry's morale. Seeing the Duke's primary siege engine dismantled by three bolts, the common soldiers began to retreat, despite the frantic commands of the mercenary captains. The remaining two towers halted their advance, their crews realizing that they were now isolated targets for Kael's undisputed long-range battery.
"Maintain the Suppression Cycle," Kael ordered, refusing to allow the enemy to reorganize. "Target the flanking towers' push-teams. We do not stop until they are back at the six-hundred-yard line."
By midday, the assault had been broken. The Duke's forces had suffered significant attrition—not in men, for Kael had prioritized the destruction of the machines—but in the loss of their most expensive siege assets. The central tower lay in a ruin of oak and iron, and the flanking towers had been withdrawn, their hide armor riddled with bolts.
Steward Elms conducted the post-assault audit as the sun began to set. "One hundred and forty bolts expended from the primary battery. Three hundred and twenty standardized crossbow bolts. Zero citizen casualties. Three minor injuries due to mangonel debris."
Kael looked at the figures, then out at the retreating army. He knew the Duke was now financially ruined. The cost of those towers, combined with the loss of professional prestige, would make it impossible for the Duke to maintain his mercenary contracts for much longer. The Industrial March of Ashfall had held. The settlement was no longer a frontier outpost; it was a sovereign industrial entity that had successfully defended its right to exist.