The garrison soldiers lying dazed on the ground, still half-asleep, had barely opened their eyes when they saw a brilliant arc of light slash across their vision. Their bodies went stiff and powerless, unable even to scream, and soon eternal darkness descended upon them...
Lorist emerged from the gate passage drenched in blood. He was about to look up and call down the guards on the wall to open the gate when panicked screams erupted behind him. "Enemy attack! Come — someone, anyone, come quickly! Ugh—"
The voice cut off abruptly. Lorist turned to see a garrison soldier in iron armor slumped in the snow before a row of dark green stone houses some dozens of meters from the gate, a long arrow protruding from his mouth. His limbs were still twitching. Clearly, Jost on the wall above had shot this shouting fool down with a single arrow.
Unfortunately, the man's cries had already alerted every garrison soldier in those stone houses. Doors burst open one after another as fully armed soldiers poured out, weapons raised. Though Jost on the wall kept loosing arrows, dropping reckless chargers as they appeared, those who followed learned from the fate of their unlucky predecessors. They rushed out behind iron shields and quickly formed up, charging toward the gate where Lorist stood.
The guards from the wall were already rushing down. Jost continued firing from above. Lorist pointed at the gate, signaling the descending guards to open it, then strode forward to meet the snarling garrison soldiers head-on.
The royal capital of Fediga began to stir. The alarm bells shattered the pre-dawn silence. From the distant wall came the sounds of combat, screams, and the clash of sword against shield, accompanied by the mournful wail of warning horns echoing over the dark city. Clusters of firelight began to blaze bright, painting the gloomy sky red...
"Kill!" Lorist charged into the garrison ranks like a maddened tiger, his sword rising and falling in a whirlwind of death. Against these garrison soldiers with inferior
Wherever his blade passed, heads rolled. One by one, the garrison soldiers collapsed screaming, clutching their wounds as Lorist's shadow flickered past them. Their swords and spears posed no threat whatsoever — they couldn't even keep up with his swift, flickering form. Chaos erupted in the ranks. Those on the periphery couldn't even locate the enemy, and by the time they spotted Lorist, they saw the flash of his blade at the same instant. The world froze. Shattered fragments of memory flickered before their eyes, and then everything went dark...
A strike to the left chest. A second blow that beheaded. A third thrust to the throat. The two garrison soldiers on either side crumpled to the ground in sprays of blood, while the one before him stood rigid as if struck by lightning. Lorist withdrew the sword from the man's throat and kicked him to the ground with a casual foot, only to find the space before him suddenly clear — he had cut clean through the crowd.
But no more soldiers were charging forward. Lorist turned around to discover that the ground behind him was carpeted with corpses. Nearly a hundred garrison soldiers lay sprawled in the snow — beheaded, dismembered, their blood staining the street's snow a dark, crimson red. The stench of blood hit him in waves, nauseating and overwhelming.
Twenty-odd garrison soldiers remained standing, but they were trembling uncontrollably. No one could have imagined that a single enemy could inflict such devastating casualties. Their eyes were filled with abject terror as they stared at Lorist, their entire bodies quaking. The scene had fallen into an eerie, deathly silence...
*Clang.* A garrison soldier holding a massive iron shield dropped it. The tremendous crash jolted everyone present back to reality. But to Lorist's surprise, the remaining soldiers didn't fly into a rage and charge forward to avenge their fallen comrades. Instead, they threw down their weapons, turned, and fled, screaming as they ran. "Demon! That's a demon..."
In the blink of an eye, every surviving garrison soldier had vanished into the alleys lining the street, leaving only their discarded weapons and shields behind. Lorist touched his nose in annoyance, thinking, *Am I really that terrifying? Calling me a demon...*
But he couldn't be bothered to chase after those scattering curs. The priority was opening the gate to let the troops outside into the city. He had taken only two steps back when a guard emerged from the gate passage with news that wasn't exactly cheerful. "Your Highness, the gate is frozen shut. We can't open it. Also, this gate is made of iron — not the usual wooden gate clad in iron plate..."
Twenty-odd garrison corpses had already been dragged out of the gate passage and piled together. Lorist stared at the two three-meter-tall iron gates, dumbfounded. Most city gates were made of wood, sheathed in iron or copper plate. Was the Vicia Chamber of Commerce showing off its wealth? They had actually cast these two gates entirely from black iron, with three iron bolts — twenty to thirty centimeters wide and seven to eight centimeters thick — running horizontally across the top, middle, and bottom.
It must have been thermal expansion and contraction. The three iron bolts, seated in the protruding recesses of the two gates, had essentially frozen in place. Forget pulling them out — even slamming them with all one's might couldn't produce the slightest vibration in the gates or the bolts.
"Is the Vicia Chamber of Commerce out of its mind? Did they forge these iron gates to lock themselves inside the city?" Lorist snarled, then quickly realized the logic. The gate was probably never opened in winter, or at least this northern gate wasn't. If anything urgent came up, they wouldn't use this entrance anyway. His luck had simply been bad enough to choose this particular gate.
It wasn't that the northern gate couldn't be opened — it just required time. For instance, building a massive fire to heat the iron gates for half a day, then hammering out the three bolts and oiling them. After that, opening and closing the gate would be easy. The problem was that time was precisely what Lorist lacked. He didn't have the luxury of spending half a day heating the gates before opening them — the Flying Tiger Corps was itching to get inside and attack the barracks...
"Can a sword blade cut through these three iron bolts?" Lorist asked the guard beside him.
"No, Your Highness. Look at this." The guard pointed at the middle bolt.
Lorist looked. The center of that bolt had been hacked to a mangled mess — these were the marks left by the guards who had drawn their swords and tried to cut through it. But the bolt seemed to be made of some unknown material of extraordinary hardness. The deepest sword mark had penetrated only about a centimeter. Given the bolt's twenty-to-thirty-centimeter width and seven-to-eight-centimeter thickness, Lorist understood that cutting through all three would be neither easy nor quick.
"Then can we carve a hole through the gates?" Lorist asked, unwilling to give up. If the bolts were temporarily out of reach, they could at least cut a hole in the gate to let the soldiers outside in first.
"Your Highness, we tried that too. The iron is too thick — even with full force, we couldn't pierce it. I don't know what material these gates and bolts are made of, but they're incredibly hard..." The guard pointed at a sword mark on the gate as he answered.
Only then did Lorist notice several sword marks on the lower portion of the left gate. The deepest had managed to punch a pinhole through the iron, through which he could faintly make out the soldiers of the Flying Tiger Corps massing outside. Ross the Fierce Tiger had arrived as well, but only three rope ladders reached the top of the wall, leaving a vast, dark crowd packed below.
Through that narrow opening, Lorist could see that both gates were seven to eight centimeters thick — roughly the same as the bolts. He was genuinely stumped now. He estimated he could probably cut through the three bolts, but it would take considerable time. Each bolt would require at least four or five strikes, each one demanding his full concentration and energy, with recovery time needed between blows. But time was the one thing he couldn't afford to waste, and if he spent his strength on the bolts, he would have nothing left when the Great Swordmaster inside the city came for him.
From the distance came the long, wailing blast of a horn — the mobilization signal. Lorist's expression turned grave. Sure enough, Jost's voice rang out from the wall. "Your Highness! Your Highness! The gate of the western district barracks has opened! A large force is heading our way — estimated arrival in ten minutes or so..."
Now there was no time even to try cutting through the bolts with all his strength. And carving a hole in the gate would take even longer. Lorist let out a bitter laugh. This siege had gone well enough until the enemy discovered them, but who could have guessed that the Vicia Chamber of Commerce would replace the gates with such impenetrable iron — so hard that even battle-qi-infused sword energy couldn't cut through, blocking the soldiers waiting outside.
Lorist surveyed his surroundings. He had fewer than two hundred guards. While more were still scaling the wall, two hundred had already been dispatched in two groups to reinforce Reidi, Ayl, and Hughes the Great Swordmaster at the wall's two ends. Less than fifty remained. After more than half an hour, fewer than six hundred soldiers had made it onto the wall — far too slow. Lorist felt a twinge of discouragement.
He signaled to Jost on the wall, instructing him to relay a message to Ross the Fierce Tiger, Malek, and Dolles outside the city: find another way onto the wall, as the gate couldn't be opened for the time being. The soldiers who had already scaled the wall shouldn't rush down to reinforce him either — instead, they should focus on unloading the steel crossbows mounted on sleds below and transporting them up to the wall for deployment, helping him defend against the imminent enemy attack.
Additionally, Lorist dispatched two guards to deliver orders to Reidi, Ayl, and Hughes the Great Swordmaster: don't rush to assault the enemy-held towers. Simply hold the towers they had already captured and prevent the enemy from retaking them. The situation had changed beyond all expectations, and the original plan was no longer viable. But as long as they held the northern wall, the family forces could continue scaling it even if the gate remained sealed. Lorist was confident they could still defeat the enemy and claim victory.
"Wolrich, take a squad to search those two rows of stone houses — check for any stragglers. Then gather anything flammable and pile it against the iron gates. Start heating these gates while we figure out how to remove the three bolts," Lorist ordered.
Wolrich was the eldest son of Viscount Edis, the acting governor of Weston Province, currently at the peak of Silver Three stars. Lorist estimated he would advance to the Gold tier within two or three years. When he and his younger brother Segus had joined the guard battalion years ago, they had performed admirably — Wolrich rising all the way from squad leader to deputy commander. His brother Segus had later transferred to the Hunting Cavalry Corps and become a battalion commander as well.
"Yes, Your Highness." Wolrich led nearly a hundred men charging toward the garrison barracks in the two rows of stone houses nearby.
Lorist then addressed the remaining guards: the enemy would arrive shortly. Use this time to gather debris from the surroundings and pile it in the street to form a crude barricade, slowing and scattering any massed charges. The guards moved quickly, and before long a motley collection of junk had been stacked across the street. To prevent it from being trampled flat, they even splashed cold water over it. The freezing temperatures would ensure it froze solid in short order, creating a barricade that could support ranged defense.
Very well. The roles had completely reversed — now it was Lorist who had to defend against the enemy's assault. Dawn was approaching. About an hour had passed since Lorist scaled the wall, and the enemy had been aware of the intrusion for over half an hour. That was more than enough time to identify the direction of the attack. Lorist couldn't help but admire the discipline of the Vicia Chamber of Commerce's armed forces — they had reacted with remarkable speed and dispatched reinforcements in no time. A fierce battle was inevitable.
From around a distant street corner emerged a mass of dark figures, the cold glint of weapons flickering among them. Though the sky was dim, Lorist could make out that they wore black armor and helmets. The front ranks carried tall, rectangular black shields reaching half a man's height, while those behind wielded black pikes four to five meters long.
"Heavy pike infantry!" Lorist's eyes narrowed. It seemed the Vicia Chamber of Commerce had deployed its elite commercial corps, aiming to seize the northern gate and wall in one decisive blow.
Wolrich and the guards who had searched the stone houses had returned, carrying wooden frames, linen bedding, and small pieces of wooden furniture. Two guards were even dragging wooden bed boards. They rushed into the gate passage and piled everything beneath the two iron gates. Wolrich smashed an oil flask atop the heap, and a guard beside him hurled his torch onto it. Flames roared to life.
"Wolrich! Lead the guards in formation behind the barricade. Protect the fire beneath the gate — do not let it be extinguished. Do not come to reinforce me — that is an order! I'll fall back when I can hold no longer. Understood?" Lorist shouted.
"Yes, at once! I understand, Your Highness," Wolrich replied.
Lorist vaulted over the barricade and strode forward to a position fifty meters ahead of it. He planted his sword in the road and stood alone, facing the dark tide surging toward him from the distance.
The heavy pike infantry drew closer, their footsteps growing louder and more synchronized. But their pace slowed as they approached, and when the front ranks with their shields were thirty or forty meters from Lorist, they finally halted in silence, pressing an almost tangible weight of pressure upon Lorist and the guards behind him.
A great battle was moments from erupting...