Fedeliga Royal City was a mighty stronghold in the southwestern region of the former Krisen Empire. Geographically, it lay with the Cloudsever Mountains to the north and the Sunset Mountains to the south, the city itself situated in the great plain valley between these two mountain ranges. It was a blessed land — fertile and rich in produce, with abundant mineral resources. The Bordoerg Province, where the Royal City stood, had been one of the most economically important provinces of the former Krisen Empire.
Fedeliga Royal City spanned nearly ten li in circumference, its walls rising over nine meters high — only half a meter shorter than those of the imperial capital. A watchtower stood every hundred meters along the wall, earning it the reputation of having the strongest defensive fortifications in the former Krisen Empire. Yet back then, when the
There were no secret tunnels leading into the city, no infiltrators working from within, and the garrison troops had not slacked in their duties. They patrolled the walls regardless of how fierce the wind and snow might be. Every hundred meters stood a tower, and each tower housed three sets of city-defense crossbows on each of its four levels — meaning that every hundred meters, twenty-four crossbows could deliver effective overlapping long-range coverage over a two-hundred-meter zone in front of the wall. The combat ability of the soldiers manning the walls might be underestimated, but the threat posed by the crossbows in those towers could not be ignored.
A direct assault! After three days,
A direct assault, however, did not mean a mindless charge — that would be nothing more than throwing heads away for nothing. Lorist did not wish to wait another ten or so days for the catapults mounted on sledges to be transported over before laying siege. It was already January 25th; by the time the catapults arrived, February would be upon them and the snow would begin to melt. Launching a siege in that period of bitter spring cold, with the ground turned to mud, would be an agonizing ordeal for both attacker and defender alike. It would be better to strike now, take Fedeliga Royal City by direct assault, and quite possibly suffer fewer casualties among the family's forces.
Lorist planned to launch the surprise attack in the early hours before dawn — that period was the darkest and when the sentries on the wall would be most mentally relaxed. A covering snowstorm would be even better: first, to obscure the line of sight of the crossbow crews in the towers, and second, to mask the attackers' approach. As long as they could get close to the wall, Lorist was confident he could seize a section of it along with several towers. And once the
What set Lorist apart from other territorial nobles was his habit of leading from the front, and this time was no different. Rejecting the objections of Potterfeng and the others, Lorist argued that with his skills, he could eliminate the enemies in the two towers flanking the city gate in the shortest possible time, by the fastest means, and with maximum stealth — then seize the gate and allow the main force to pour in. If anyone else attempted it, they would likely be detected, resulting in a protracted back-and-forth battle that would waste time and increase casualties for nothing…
Every senior member of the family present hung their heads in shame, unable to offer a word in rebuttal. It was the simple truth — apart from Great Swordmaster Hughes and Reidi, who could hold their own against Lorist for a few dozen exchanges, no one else could last ten moves. And for a family knight, allowing the lord to charge into battle first was nothing short of a personal disgrace. But their skills were inferior, and there was nothing anyone could do. They could only let Lorist take the risk.
The first wave consisted of four people: Lorist, Great Swordmaster Hughes, Reidi, and Elle. Lorist and Great Swordmaster Hughes would, upon scaling the wall, seize the two towers flanking the north gate, while Reidi and Elle would handle bringing up the second wave — Jost and the guards. Once the guards were on the wall, Elle would lead a team to open the gate, Jost would hold the wall, and Reidi would take the guards along the ramparts to continue the assault, seeking to capture the west gate, south gate, and east gate in succession.
The three regiments of the Bedrock Corps had already taken up ambush positions outside the other three gates, which meant that the Flying Tiger Corps' fierce commander Ross earned the honor of being the first to enter the city — a fact he was quite smug about. Once Elle opened the north gate, the entering Flying Tiger Corps would immediately launch an assault on the barracks in the western district, hoping to force the enemy to surrender. Meanwhile, one regiment of the Bedrock Corps, led by Malek, would first seize the entire wall — closing the gate on the enemy inside.
Potterfeng's luck was poor. He was assigned to coordinate the other three regiments from outside, and once Malek had secured the walls, he would enter to maintain order or serve as a follow-up reserve. Lorist planned to leave the inner city district alone for the time being, first occupying the four surrounding quarters before launching an assault on the inner city. Perhaps by then, the enemy would see that the situation was hopeless and surrender without a fight…
The evening of January 30th. Light snow. The sky was dim and overcast, and the cold wind howled.
All of the Norton Family soldiers had retired early to conserve their strength for the coming assault on Fedeliga Royal City at dawn. Lorist was woken by Genorio at three in the morning. He ate a little something to fill his stomach, then began donning his armor and equipment. Before long, Great Swordmaster Hughes, Reidi, and Elle strode into the command tent, all fully outfitted in grey-white one-piece leather coats and hoods, black gauze eye masks, white face coverings, and white cloaks draped over their shoulders.
Stepping outside the tent, the sky was pitch black. Snowflakes danced a wild, frenzied ballet in midair, and the bitter wind let out a piercing, mournful wail as it swept across the white expanse of the plains. A single breath drew in cold so sharp it pierced to the lungs, and their whole bodies shivered involuntarily.
Glancing at the camp and the few dark figures beside him, Lorist asked quietly, "Is everything ready?"
Receiving an affirmative response, he nodded. "Then let's move out."
There was no need for grand speeches or stirring words of encouragement. Four silhouettes glided across the snowfield on skis, poling themselves forward like phantoms, utterly silent as they hurtled toward Fedeliga Royal City. Over twenty li of distance — on foot, in snow that deep, it would take an enormous amount of time, perhaps the better part of a day. But with the aid of skis, Fedeliga Royal City appeared before the four of them in less than half an hour.
The greatest advantage of a winter assault was that the bitter cold had frozen the broad moat solid, and the heavy snow had blended it seamlessly with the surrounding plains. In summer or autumn, a moat ten meters wide would be an impassable chasm before the attackers, and who knew how many casualties would be suffered before they could even reach the base of the wall.
A gentle push of the poles, and the skis carried the four grey-white figures across the flat, frozen surface of the moat. In the blink of an eye, they had reached the foot of the wall. Lorist cocked his ears and listened. There was no movement on the wall above — only the ceaseless howling of the wind. He made a quiet gesture, and the four of them slipped off their skis and loosened their wrists. Lorist drew two black daggers from a leather case on his back and prepared to scale the wall.
The surface of the wall in winter was coated in a thin layer of ice, extraordinarily slick. But the daggers, infused with dark energy, sank through it as easily as through rotten leather — a slight press and the blades sank to the hilt, leaving the handles protruding like a small, winding ladder leading upward. The wall was nine meters high, far beyond the reach of twelve daggers alone. Lorist clung to the wall like a gecko, and behind him, Elle detached the leather case strapped to his back and handed it up.
Just as they neared the top of the wall, the sound of boots crunching through snow and the flicker of firelight came from above — the wall patrol was approaching. Five o'clock in the morning, the darkest hour. Not one of the patrolling soldiers had any inclination to lean over and peer down below. They simply huddled their heads down and followed the torch at the front, and not one of them spoke…
After the patrol passed, Lorist emerged soundlessly from below the wall's edge, landing softly behind the last man in the column, matching his footsteps. That last patrolman seemed to sense something and turned to look behind him. As the last in the line, what he should have seen was the dim outline of the snow-covered wall walkway in the darkness — but instead he found a black figure practically pressed against his back. He was startled half to death. He had just opened his mouth to scream when he felt a cold prick at his chest, and the sound died in his throat. The world spun, and he knew nothing more…
Lorist and his three companions had scaled the wall on the left side of the north gate. After the patrol passed, Lorist followed behind them. The patrol was only forty meters from the left tower, and just as the torch-bearing soldier at the front and the captain beside him stepped through the small door into the tower, Lorist moved almost one step per man, dispatching the thirty-odd remaining patrolmen cleanly and silently, leaving them sprawled across the wall walkway.
The tower's level was divided in two halves — one half was the passageway leading to the small door at the other end of the wall, and the other half was a semicircular staircase, one half leading up and the other down. Normally, there should have been two sentries posted on this level, but in the bitter cold, those two sentries had no doubt found some hidden corner to sleep in. The torch-bearing patrolman and the captain beside him thought nothing of it. They walked through the small door and headed for a fire basin burning beside the passageway, intending to warm themselves.
The captain turned and said, "You lot warm up too. Rest here a bit and then continue the pa—"
The captain froze. Behind him stood none of his patrolmen — only a single figure whose attire was obviously different from theirs.
"You—" A flash of sword light, quick as lightning and gone. The captain and the torch-bearer both crumpled to the ground. Lorist lunged forward in a single stride, catching both corpses in his hands and setting them gently on the floor to avoid alerting the enemies above.
Reidi and Elle appeared through the small door behind him. Lorist asked softly, "Where's Great Swordmaster Hughes?"
Reidi said nothing. He pointed toward the tower on the right side of the city gate, indicating that Great Swordmaster Hughes had gone to seize that tower.
Lorist nodded. "Stick to the plan."
Reidi and Elle nodded. They picked up the fallen torches, and Elle stepped out, waving a torch in two circles, then after a moment, two more circles. Before long, faint stirrings could be heard below the wall, and shadowy figures emerged from the darkness, gathering at the base. Elle threw down a rope ladder he had brought up, and the figures below began climbing. Jost was the first onto the wall, followed by two guards who likewise carried bundled rope ladders on their backs. Soon, three rope ladders hung from the wall, and more and more guards swarmed up.
Lorist had already killed every garrison soldier on all four levels of the tower. Perhaps it was the long years of peace — from the outside, the wall's defenses appeared extremely tight, but once inside the tower, it became clear this was all surface polish with nothing beneath. Both the patrolmen and the tower's duty garrison had long since let their vigilance decay into utter disrepair. The twelve garrison soldiers on each of the tower's upper three levels were sleeping like logs, and the firing slits of the city-defense crossbows had all been sealed shut with thick wooden planks. Lorist suspected that even thunder from outside wouldn't have roused them.
It was not that Lorist was cruel — there was simply no way to take them alive. A single alarm raised by one of them could alert the entire garrison. To prevent any complications, the cleanest solution was to kill them all. A dead enemy was the best enemy.
Reidi prepared to lead the guards to seize the next tower, while Elle readied his team to take the gate. Lorist appeared before them reeking of blood and killing intent. "Wait. I'll take the gate myself. Elle, go with Reidi to capture the towers on the wall — you can support each other from above and below. And you can disguise yourselves as a patrol on the move."
Reidi's eyes lit up. He quickly assembled over forty guards in two ranks, and he and Elle marched off toward the next tower with torches held high, striding with an air of casual authority. Over thirty more guards remained on the wall. Lorist signaled them to enter the tower to avoid detection. Below, guards were still climbing up. But every guard who made it onto the wall maintained absolute silence — creeping up soundlessly and slipping into the tower.
A figure appeared in the doorway of the right tower, holding a torch and drawing two half-circles in front of his chest. Lorist let out a breath of relief — Great Swordmaster Hughes had taken that tower as well.
"Send thirty men to hold that tower. And ask Great Swordmaster Hughes: if he plans to attack the next tower, we'll continue sending men to support him here," Lorist said.
Thirty guards sprinted toward the right tower. Lorist felt that getting men up via three rope ladders was too slow. He looked at the twenty-odd guards around him and said to Jost, "Jost, hold the wall up here. I'm going down to take the gate myself. Watch for my signal, then have the guards come down."
Although his own guards were better suited for special operations than the soldiers of the Flying Tiger Corps or the Bedrock Corps — having been trained in ambush, surprise attack, stealth, and assassination — Lorist still worried that leading them down would alert the enemy's defenses. That was why he planned to go down alone first and see what the situation was.
Lorist descended from the stone steps at the wall's edge. The steps down from the wall were not far from the gate, less than fifty meters. But when he reached the ground, he was surprised to find not a single garrison soldier at the gate. Only a great bonfire burned there. Dawn was approaching, and the fire had long since lost its flames — only a pile of ashes and a few thin wisps of smoke rising lazily upward.
"Hey, I'm talking to you — what are you doing, coming down from the wall and looking around like that?" A sharp voice came from the gate archway.
"Oh, nothing," Lorist hurried toward the gate. "The captain sent me down to grab something to eat for him…"
"Go on, dig around in that bonfire. There might be a few leftover cassava from last night buried in there," the voice said. He had clearly taken Lorist for one of the wall garrison soldiers.
Lorist walked to the bonfire in front of the gate archway and stole a glance. Inside the archway, some twenty-odd garrison soldiers were sprawled in deep sleep. The one nearest the outside — almost certainly the one who had spoken — was wrapped in a sheepskin cloak, leaning against the wall with his eyes half-closed, dozing.
It was actually a clever arrangement. Build a big fire in front of the gate archway, let the garrison soldiers shelter inside the arch to warm themselves by the fire — nice and toasty, perfect for a good sleep — without neglecting their gate duty. Truly the best of both worlds.
"Don't take them all — save a few for me too," the dozing garrison soldier said with his eyes still closed.
"All right," Lorist answered, stepping closer to the gate archway, his right hand gripping his sword hilt.
At that moment, a shrill, hoarse horn blast erupted abruptly from the wall, shattering the pre-dawn silence. The horn was immediately cut short, and a scream echoed from far away.
The garrison soldier leaning against the wall sprang to his feet, bellowing, "Alert! Everyone, get up!"
…