Chapter 259 – The Siege of Lothlia (3)

Chapter 259 – The Siege of Lothlia (3)

"Any methods necessary?" Merlin asked, looking at me, waiting for confirmation.

"Yes." I nodded, looking into his eyes. I just returned from the station, where I watched the train depart with Yuri trudging through the snow in the Princess. "Do whatever it takes so our prisoner tells us everything he knows about our enemy. I don't care what methods you use; I don't care what remains of him afterward. Learn it all."

"I will do my best." He nodded, saluting, leaving to start on it at once. As for what results he would have, I didn't know, but I hoped to learn something about our adversary. Something that we could use against him...

Haaah... There was a day when I wasn't worried about Yuri. Hell, I even sent her into an enemy city. But... I couldn't help but be nervous now. I just hoped I wouldn't have to go and try and rescue her again. The quicker this war is over, the better; I can't focus on relaxing and exploring with this shit going on... I just wanted to have fun in my new life.

...

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Far away from Avalon and Lothlia, in the city of Cerna, Mirian was reading the urgent message from the Frontier. Its messenger was waiting in the castle's dining room, being served because he could barely stand, rushing through the heavy snow from the Black Region, arriving at the city in only a few days.

"This isn't good..." She mumbled, biting her lips.

"They are under attack..." Milan whispered, reading the letter, standing beside her, knowing this assault was the handiwork of the monster ruling from within the capital's palace.

"And we can't send the Judgement over to help... I hope he won't take it personally."

"Not if you explain it." Milan whispered, rubbing her shoulders.

They couldn't provide any help. Since winter started, the Silver Region has been breached twice, not by an army but by the remaining two flying ships of Ishillia. Of the three they had, one was clearly sent away to assault the Frontier, and the other two continuously harassed Cerna and the region. They never truly come near the city, but they flew close enough for the Judgement to pick up on their presence. They were testing whether it was still there almost every other day, and if they ever found the city lacking, Mirian was sure they would move in and wipe it off the map. She knew that Pascal was using the winter to give up on the defense of his borders, knowing there wouldn't be an attack coming in this weather. He could draw back the ships and use them to keep her in check.

"The old bastard aims to keep me here while destroying my allies."

"I'm surprised he doesn't order the ships to attack us."

"He won't." she answered her husband, sighing while enjoying his massage. "I left with the Spear in hand... I think he is afraid of it; that is why he will try to isolate us."

"Good thing that he doesn't know you can't use it!" He chuckled, making Mirian twitch her mouth.

While trying to figure it out, his men trudged closer, their breath clouding in the freezing air, their boots crunching through the snow. Some glanced nervously toward the sky, fearing another volley of magic would rain down upon them. Others muttered prayers, clutching their spears and halberds.

When they were within reach of the breach, the defenders finally made their move.

A deafening blast echoed across the battlefield as one of the cannons roared to life like an angry dragon. But instead of targeting the conscripts, it aimed at the jagged rubble surrounding the breach. The blast shattered what remained of the fractured wall, sending chunks of stone tumbling down toward the advancing troops. Dozens of conscripts were crushed beneath the falling debris, their cries of pain quickly swallowed by the chaos, buried under stone and snow.

The commanders shouted loudly at the back of the conscripts, forcing them to move faster. It was an opportunity. The breach was open, and now was the time to strike. The conscripts surged ahead, desperation pushing them into a clumsy charge toward the exposed section of the wall.

But the warriors atop the wall had prepared for this. As the first wave of conscripts scrambled through the rubble, they were met with a hail of arrows from above. Shields were of little use—many of the conscripts lacked them altogether, and those that did found their flimsy wooden barriers, bringing them along; they were splintered by the sheer force of the arrows.

The front lines crumbled almost instantly. Bodies were being piled up near the breach as the conscripts faltered under the relentless assault. They stumbled over their fallen friends, their resolve already beginning to break. Some men turned to flee, but the commanders stationed behind them, part of Otto's personal army, brandished their swords and cut down anyone who stopped moving. Anyone who retreated without orders was beheaded with one strike.

For a brief moment, the desperate battalion regrouped and pressed forward once more, desperate to escape the deathtrap of the breach. A few managed to climb the rubble and engage the defenders directly, swinging their weapons wildly and blindly. However, they were no match for what waited for them. Avalon's elite, towering over their freezing, weak bodies, swatted their spears away as if they were simple children's toys. Then, their bone-colored weapons flashed, and bodies were split into two without any shout, killing them silently and meticulously. It was a slaughter, more chilling than the weather. Blood stained the snow, and the bodies of the fallen were trampled underfoot as more men were sent forward to meet the same fate, just to be dismembered and thrown back down.

Otto watched from his vantage point, his expression impassive. This was not going as he had expected. The conscripts were performing their role—dying, but they failed to reveal the enemy's strength. Where were those machines? Why were the cannons he clearly saw on the walls silent? Were they... fake? To frighten him? No... That... that couldn't be, could it? He could only see that Lothlia's soldiers were well-trained, well-equipped, and dangerous. But their numbers were low, and with his army, he would drown them sooner or later in their own blood. The breach had been created, and if he could find a way to neutralize them, shooting the flying boulders down, the city would fall.

As he was thinking about it, the conscripts at the breach reached their breaking point. The morale of the surviving men was shattered as they realized there was no way forward. The arrows continued to rain down, and the defenders above showed no signs of weakening. Panic quickly set in, and soon, the remaining conscripts turned and fled in a desperate attempt to escape the slaughter.

It was chaos.

Half of the men sprinted back toward Otto's camp, their weapons discarded in the snow, fear etched into their faces. With hundreds of them doing it, Otto's officers could not kill them all, even as they rushed after them in fury... But that didn't mean they could escape or they wouldn't be punished. The mercenaries stationed at the rear sneered as they got up, readying their weapons. It was finally time to exercise a little and make an example out of the weaklings.

While those who were running for their lives were heading to their inevitable doom, the other half of the conscripts had no chance to flee. Accepting their fate, they began dropping their weapons, waiting for the sweet release of death. Yet... it didn't come. To their surprise, those who surrendered weren't killed. Seeing that the defenders ignored them, the sound of battle was quickly replaced with weapons being thrown down, yells for mercy, and hundreds of warriors raising their hands, shouting their submission.

The conscripts, who remained at the wall, were all rounded up and herded like cattle into the city, where they would face an uncertain fate... but through their surrender, they still carried a small hope of survival.

Otto had already turned away from the battlefield, his face grimacing in disgust. The first assault had not gone as he had planned. He hadn't seen what he needed to see, and the city's defenses were still filled with unknowns and mysteries.

"Prepare the next wave!" he ordered his officers, his voice cold and calculating. "I want all our trebuchets to fire at the same time!"