Chapter 11: A Night of War

Chapter 11: A Night of War

Chapter 11

A Night of War

Roars rang out like thunder during a stormy night; carnage unfolded like a tapestry, weaving a perfect set of circumstances that led Sylas to experience something that, even at his worst point in life he never did: a proper war.

Boulders the size of cars were repeatedly flung over the walls, crashing into the ghoulish army that numbly and persistently clawed forward. The forest facing the castle began to topple over, the tall trees that looked like swords now lay bent and broken, unrecognizable. Ever so often, the symphony of strings being pulled together at a loud "READY!!" and then let go as the arrows whizzed through the barely-lit skyline caused all other sounds to temporarily be drowned out.

Ghouls quickly began falling by the hundreds, their corpses piling up into molehills. Despite this, however, the morale kept dropping; neither the boulders nor the arrows nor the barrels of flammable tar were infinite, and the castle was burning through them like a candle through the wax. No matter how many they killed, it seemed, just as many appeared from the canopy of the trees, ready to take the fallen's place.Updated from novelbIn.(c)om

The two young boys standing beside Sylas were further joined by a squadron of ten archers; the two boys and Sylas acted like eyes and relays, though Sylas mostly just sat and stood in a daze, uncomfortable. This wasn't what he expected to happen. The castle was usually overrun rather quickly so he never got to see the true number of ghouls. He'd just assumed that, even at the worst, it wouldn't cross a thousand. But he was wrong. He was terribly wrong.

Some part of him wanted to jump from the tower and restart the day. Now that he knew he could convince the Prince with his shabby performance, he'd be able to provide a more detailed account of what would transpire. But he didn't. He couldn't. Looking around, he saw over a hundred souls facing their darkest fears with the courage bounding realms, facing evil itself and standing. He couldn't deny them that. He could always restart the day if all other options were exhausted. But some part of him didn't want to deny these soldiers their courage and their hearts.

It was perhaps rather dullard of a move, and he had no doubt in his heart that most other souls, those far cleverer and more insidious than him, would mock at his choices and actions, but he didnt care. He was awed at the sightand he wanted to continue seeing it.

It was evident within two hours of the battle that it wouldnt end any time soon. By then, there were no more boulders to throw, so the ordinary men and women of the castle, smiths, cooks, maids, and so on, began bringing anything that was even remotely heavysome even ripped some loose bricks from their homes and brought them over. The guards would then pile a number of them on top and toss them over, hoping for the best.

It wasnt long after that the arrows were running dry and that all the tar was expended and burned. The flatland lying below the walls was either burning in bright coral or lay ashen and charred beyond recognition. Furthermore, pungent odor began permeating the walls, though nobody had much energy to pay attention to it. Well, nobody except Sylas. Perhaps, of all the people manning the walls and all the people praying behind them, he had the least worriesno, he had no worries, really. To him, victory or defeat was relative. And it scared him, the way his mind began working.

At a three-hour mark, when it was clear to everyone that the arrows were gone and that every remotely heavy object was gone and that the last of the surprisingly flammable tar was burned Prince Valen clutched the tiny draft of paper against his breast. It was his last weapon, the last line of defense and he wasn't even certain it would work.

Sylas used that panic to sneak away; expecting the explosion, hed already closed his eyes and looked away. As such, he could clearly see the aftermaththe stone was on fire. Large chunks were strewn across the outer courtyard, blazing. A massive, gaping hole appeared in the wall, the size of a house, the edges on fire, though the path through was actually fire-free. There were no Ghouls, howeverat least no alive ones and at least not yet. Sylas wasnt going to wait for the results.

He hurried off and hid within Valen's library. Every so often, exceptionally loud shouts and roars would reach him but he ignored them. He felt awful, truly, for hiding in here but what was the alternative? Watch others die gnarly deaths and risk his own life? Try to be a hero and save someone only to utterly fail and likely kill the both of them in the process? He was not a soldier, not a hero. If anything, he was a coward. Even as an immortal, he was cowardly.

Hours passed, hours during which he sat, empty-headed. This was the longest he lasted. It was the longest the castle lasted. Since it didnt fall even after such a long time they had won. Still, Sylas wasnt even able to force himself to celebrate. Just how many had died? He didnt dare leave and see. Instead, he remained seated, waiting for something. That something came unexpectedly and it came in the form of a new pop-up window informing him of the success.

Congratulations.

You have completed a task: Save Boy

Reward: you have unlocked a new Save Point.

Congratulations.

You have completed a task: Savior of the Stone

Reward: you have unlocked a Sword Mastery TomeHeartseeker

Would you like to initialize a new Save Point?

YES /NO