Chapter 106: Iron Bones Clash, bl**d and Fire Ignite (5)
Long black hair danced behind him as the wind and frost stirred in the forest ahead, swirling violently before fading away like a bad dream.
“My Lord Silvya—”
Safiros rode in with a few knights on their beasts. He spotted the frozen corpse of a heretic and paused for a moment, then erupted into laughter.
“Ha ha ha! This nasty creature has turned into an ice block thanks to our Lord! Look at how grotesque it is! Truly a sight for sore eyes!”
The heretic, named Weithermill, was skewered with sharp ice spikes, twisted up in midair, with one protruding through his jaw and poking out of his mouth, bl**d oozing out and crystallizing into dark red strands. At first glance, it looked like he was infested with disgusting worms, his frozen features contorting among them, sending shivers down the spine.
Safiros took a moment to appreciate the icy statue, then tugged at the reins, and his beast gave a mighty roar, lifting its front hooves to stomp hard on the ice sculpture, flipping it over and smashing it into the mud nearby with a loud crack, shattering it into countless pieces. The man on the beast pouted and spat a glob at the pile of ice debris.
“Puh! This sc*m doesn’t deserve to d*e a nice d*ath.”
“Are you done over there?” I asked, tilting my head.
“All wrapped up.”
Safiros nodded slightly: “Not a mouse was left alive, all corpses are hanging from trees… We lost two brothers, one severely burned; he’s not dead, but who knows how long he can hold on. d*mn it. The left flank is quiet now, but the right side seems to still be fighting; I have no clue what’s going on there…”
He shivered, sucking in a cold breath.
“Brr—… So cold. Arthur, Arthur!”
As the Captain of Knights rubbed his hands and huffed warm air, he shouted back, and the young knight he called rushed forward on his beast. He had a streak of bl**d across his face, but it wasn’t deep, the bl**d still flowing. The knight didn’t seem to mind, gazing at me with eager eyes, his sky-blue gaze brimming with immense respect.
“What are you staring at?” The Captain shot him a glare. “With Lord Silvya’s power, dealing with these lowlifes is like a lion swatting at a rabbit. This is just the tip of the iceberg! You didn’t see the blow he dealt back in the village… Whatever, as long as we stick with the Lord, we can’t trail behind.”
He waved to the knight: “Go report back about the situation here. This Weithermill dying in such a miserable way is quite uplifting, d*mn it! Spread the word through the ranks; we’re about to slam into the heretics hard. The knights could use a morale boost… Make it quick!”
“Understood!”
The knight’s eyes gleamed with excitement as he accepted the order and dashed off.
“Lord Silvya, let’s move on.”
“Mm.”
…………
A few dozen kilometers away, Alectine City.
The clamor roared, the sound of countless people igniting the night, the winding canal outside the city stained crimson.
It was once dusk, but now the sky had darkened. Flying fire arrows zipped by like fireflies in the night sky, illuminating the view of those locked in deadly combat atop the walls. On the southern hillside, heretics and rebels surged like a tide over the muddy grass, while the walls glimmered with golden flashes, holy lances sweeping down at the throngs below, splattering bl**d as people fell like wheat before a scythe, only to later rise again, contorting their limbs from the bloodied soil.
The siege by the heretics had begun.
The solid gates were battered and broken, sealed by the glowing Sin Barrier, while the protective canal blazed with bl**d and flames. Shadows of countless people clashed in the melee, long ladders ascended to the walls, and Bluestone oil poured from above, sending screams rising as people fell from the ladders. The heretics battled the knights atop the walls, giant fireballs shook the structure repeatedly, arrows whistled by, bl**d spilled everywhere, and frantic roars filled the air.
Long swords and blades sliced into bodies, severing limbs, decapitating heads, and splitting open bellies, guts spilling out and the fierce flames spreading. More people surged toward the walls, drowning in the sea of slaughter, as sunlight dimmed; life became as fragile as paper. The injured lay in pools of bl**d, gazing up at the sky, surrounded by the shadows of battle.
Within the inner barracks for the wounded, a young knight named Barry lifted his head, listening to the horrific sounds coming from the left side of the wall, hearing the thuds of fireballs striking the structure in loud booms. Around him, horrifyingly injured comrades were carried in waves, but even more corpses were being taken away; there was hardly any space left to lie down.
He stared at the familiar yet strange bodies, feeling the ground tremble slightly beneath him. Slowly lowering his gaze, he looked at his own bloodied hands wrapped in bandages, turbulent emotions rising within him—fear mixed with outrage—and he ground his teeth, clenching his fists tightly.
For days now, Barry had endured brutal battles amid thick bl**d. He thought he had somewhat adapted to it all. At first, he was weak in the knees at the sight of dead bodies, but now, with comrades graced with severed arms or legs, or burned beyond recognition, the heart-wrenching cries filling the air, he thought he was prepared to face it all. Yet, looking at this now, he still felt dizzy, wanting to throw up—just unable to.
He hadn’t eaten in almost a day.
Ever since the commander’s son arrived with a merchant convoy in this city, somehow Barry and his squad had been reassigned from the front lines to the barracks, working alongside civilians to save lives. This made the young knight feel intensely ashamed—ashamed of not being able to fight shoulder to shoulder with his comrades, and also… a bit relieved when he first received the order.
But military orders were like mountains, and even though Barry protested at the command center with his teammates, it was said that the commander was resolute. This matter was non-negotiable, so they had no choice but to stay put, carrying a hint of guilt and redoubling their efforts in their tasks.
The fighting at the walls raged nonstop, and Barry and his squad barely had time to rest. Even when they stopped, it was merely to find a corner to curl up in for a quick nap. Sleep didn’t last long before more work piled up. His stomach growled from hunger, but there was no appetite—those women hustling around the camp hadn’t even had a drop of water since morning. As a knight, he couldn’t possibly eat in front of them.
“Barry, Brother Barry!”
His teammates staggered in, hauling a grievously wounded knight, urgently calling him: “Help us—”
At the sound, Barry rushed over, assisting his comrades in laying the injured knight down gently. A woman who was preparing medicine approached with a bowl, ready to tend to the unconscious young knight’s wounds.
“Miss Lilith, Miss Lilith, the gauze…”
The knight had lost one arm, and half his face was charred from flames, looking absolutely dreadful, with half his lips gone, revealing his bone-white teeth. He quivered all over, and the woman named Lilith crouched down, starting to administer medicine and bandage him. Gauze ran out, and someone handed some over, but just as she reached for it, she stumbled and collapsed to the ground, the medicine bowl crashing apart with a loud noise.
“Be careful!”
The medicine spilled across Barry’s feet, but he didn’t mind, wanting to help the woman up. However, seeing her thin dress torn open, exposing her collarbone and part of her shoulder, Barry hesitated for a moment, unsure of where to place his hands.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…”
The woman kept saying, struggling to get up.
“Are you okay? Miss, Miss Lilith, how long has it been since you’ve slept? You didn’t even drink any water… I, I have some hard bread, please eat a bit and drink some water, rest a while…”
Barry pulled out half a hard piece of bread, about to hand it to her when he suddenly realized it had been in his pocket for nearly two days—both hard and cold, having dropped on the ground a few times, it was a bit dirty, and he had nibbled on it a bit too. His face flushed, and he felt an inexplicable panic.
He quickly retracted his hand: “I—I’ll get you something fresh…”
“This is fine, thank you.”
The woman shook her head, took the dry bread, and bit into it. Perhaps recovering from her moment of dizziness, she picked up the gauze from the ground and continued to tend to the knight’s wounds.
At that moment, the entire city was engulfed in battle. The heretics were about to breach the walls, and everyone was fighting tooth and nail in defense. Many men who knew a bit of swordsmanship had gone up to the walls, while weaker women tended to their own tasks for the warriors—some were noble ladies like Lilith, while others, like the woman who handed the gauze, were but humble workers.
These people, who would rarely meet under normal circumstances, were now united in a common purpose, battling fiercely, with tangled hair and dirt-streaked faces, struggling to do anything to defend their home.
In such a situation, some things became unimportant. As Lilith accepted Barry’s piece of bread, she probably didn’t even think about whether it was dirty or leftover from someone else. She focused on the task at hand, her weary yet determined expression tugging at Barry’s heartstrings.
During these days, he couldn’t help but feel concerned for this noble lady, two or three years older than him.
It wasn’t just her appearance, but something else…
But what it was, Barry couldn’t quite articulate; all he knew was that she reminded him of Little Shay, whom he hadn’t seen in a year.
Not in looks, but in some other sense…
Yet, he couldn’t pin down exactly what it was about them that was similar, only that he felt a connection. Sometimes, looking at Lilith would trigger hazy memories of another face, that of a beautiful girl with black hair and black eyes.
Now, watching her hair in disarray, forcing herself to remain strong, an urge of compassion swelled in his heart. Unable to hold back, he shouted to those nearby: “Everyone! Lilith is the daughter of the city lord! She’s the daughter of Lord Kros! Since the battle started, she’s been helping in the barracks! She hasn’t rested for two days! Let her rest when she’s done here! I’ll keep an eye on the fire; I know a thing or two about that…”
His voice carried, and people paused in surprise, then a wounded knight spoke up: “Lord Kros’s daughter… No wonder the name sounded familiar! Are you the city lord’s daughter?”
“I saw her; she hasn’t rested in at least a day! The city lord’s daughter?”
“I think I saw her when she first got here; it’s so dark here, but looking close… it really is her.”
The severely injured knight being laid down stabilized slightly, while Lilith began to panic at the attention.
“The city lord’s daughter shouldn’t be in a place like this…”
“Why aren’t you hiding in a bunker? It’s dangerous here!”
“With your kind heart, you don’t need to do these things… We will drive back the heretics, and later you can come out to celebrate the victory banquet. If lucky, I could clink a cup with you then… If you get hurt here, our knightly honor is at stake…”
The atmosphere became lively, with some joking, others moved by the moment. Lilith stood up to face them—among them were knights with broken limbs, some in shock from losing too much bl**d, too weak to open their eyes, and even a couple on the verge of d*ath, all looking at her with strained smiles.
She felt lost, about to say something, but suddenly her nose tinged with warmth, and tears began flowing uncontrollably; she could only wipe them away, smearing dirt across her face. “Wah, wah!” she cried softly, then shook her head: “I’ll, I’ll rest in a bit! Thank you, thank you… You’re all heroes. My father… and brother went to the walls… I can’t wield a sword, I can only do these things…”
“Fighting the heretics is our job!”
“Miss Lilith, just wait; once I recover, I’ll take down a few heretics… all on you!”
Barry nodded vigorously from the side. He wanted to say something soaring and inspiring to Lilith, but thinking of how he hadn’t fought alongside the warriors on the walls, his heart twisted with mixed emotions, rendering him speechless and uncomfortable. Eventually, he stuttered: “I’ll go get you some hot water…”
With that, he didn’t wait for a reply, turning and hurrying out of the barracks, heading towards the supply tent on the southern side of the city. A few familiar comrades were huddled around a charcoal fire, the water here was reserved for the wounded, hence relatively clean. Without hesitation, Barry grabbed a bowl and filled it with warm water from the barrel, turning back and walking quickly while shielding the bowl from the dust.
Not far from the walls, the sounds of battle and booming explosions showed no sign of stopping. The dim light of the sky flickered with gold and red, fire arrows shrieked through the night sky, crossing over the towering walls and flying into the city. As Barry walked hastily, he glanced up.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—
He saw bright firelights, accompanied by a terrifying shriek, crashing against the city walls with a tremendous explosion, breaking the iron-like stronghold into pieces, with countless figures plummeting from the rubble, buried under the scorching Bluestone.
Buzzing—
The impact shook Barry’s ears, and his eyes stung from the blinding light.
He squinted, feeling the ground tremble violently and barely maintaining his balance, causing some water to slosh out of his bowl. Suddenly, the shouts surged to a deafening roar, as if countless wild beasts were unleashing their fury in a final showdown, the noise like thunder rolling from beyond the walls, faintly overwhelming the crashing rubble and echoing with a new wave of cries—
“Ahhhh—!!!!”
In the flood of yells, chaos erupted around him.
“What’s happening?!?”
“They breached the walls…”
Breach the walls…
In an instant, Barry understood.
The moment of desperate life and d*ath had finally arrived.
