Chapter 109: Iron Will Collides, Bloodthirst Ignites (Part 8)
Under the cloak of night, the War Chariot thundered through the fire-ravaged streets.
Sounds of running, shouting, and crying echoed from all around. This street led to the northern city wall, where the last batch of brave volunteers, led by the Captain of Knights and the local nobility, stormed off in that direction. By the ruins on the street, a woman was weeping, mourning the d*ath of her man at the wall. Her cries wove into the chaos of footsteps, catching attention, but apart from a few sympathetic glances, no one could find the words to say.
Hundreds of meters away, at the North Gate, the bloodstains were spreading towards the High Tower, the gruesome aftermath of battle stretching from breaches in the city wall right into every alley in the citadel.
A towering, brutish Heretic roared madly, his body engulfed in scarlet flames, leading the Heretics to clash violently with the desperate knights. bl**d splattered in the dark of night, and a Holy Lance shot from the tower, piercing his shoulder. The rough Heretic merely swayed, his wounds healed in an instant. In the next moment, he leaped high, tearing through the air in a blaze before crashing onto the nearly thirty-meter high tower. The next second, clerics within the tower were screaming in panic, severed limbs flying as the flames danced.
Meanwhile, a thousand meters away in a barracks to the north, the bl**d-stained Beiyard struggled to rise from his bed, leaning on a cane as he dragged himself a few steps towards the sword resting on the wooden table. The old attendant with graying whiskers pushed the door open, noticing Beiyard’s actions and rushing forward: “Master Beiyard, what are you doing?!”
“Going to k*ll some beasts.”
Beiyard’s expression was dark, teeth clenched as he shoved the old man’s hand away, turning toward the door. After just a few steps, he stumbled and fell. The old man hurriedly bent down to assist: “Master, the merchant’s War Chariot is almost ready. Captain Williams has instructed you to leave with us through the secret passage. You…”
“Are you suggesting I run away in battle?!”
Beiyard barked angrily, standing without looking back, sword in one hand and cane in the other as he continued toward the exit. “My father is still fighting the enemy! How can I abandon him and run away? Alectine City is on the brink of destruction! All the men who can wield a sword are on the walls. Why should I hide like a scared dog?!”
“But… the captain… your father’s orders…”
“I do not belong to the Third Knights Order; he has no right to give me orders. You don’t need to say more. Today, even if I d*e here, I will not cower away like those women and flee. That’s an insult to me and a desecration of the honor of the Williams Family!”
With a limp, Beiyard stormed out of the room, the old man following closely behind, urging him gently: “Your leg is in this condition; what can you do if you go out?”
“Even at this state, I can still take down ten Heretics.”
“Master Beiyard, what you need to do isn’t to go out and fight to the d*ath… you have more important matters…”
As the old man spoke, he exchanged glances with the guards stationed at the barracks entrance, and a few slowly approached from behind. Beiyard kept talking: “What I do is my decision. Reinforcements from the First Knights Order will arrive soon, but before that, I must…”
Before he could finish, two knights lunged at him from behind, pinning him to the ground. His sword and cane flew away, and Beiyard struggled, yelling. One knight held one of his arms tightly, while the old man was quick to act, pulling out a pouch of powder from his robes and, with a flourish, scattering it on Beiyard’s face.
“You…”
Beiyard’s eyes went wide as he felt his strength waning: “This is… Belladonna…”
“I’m sorry, Master.” The old man smiled kindly but with worry in his eyes. “I cannot watch you d*e uselessly. As Captain Williams says, you carry a heavier mission, and you cannot d*e here; it would serve no purpose. So… apologies, Master. I have no choice but to use this underhanded method to help you escape…”
The old man said, discarding the empty packet, picking up the sword and cane from the ground, passing the cane to one of the knights while gripping the sword himself.
“Master, we followed you here, and everything we’ve witnessed has broken our hearts. The southern part of Silgaya is flooded, bodies everywhere, and the knights’ supplies have been cut off. This is not due to the wicked Heretics but a sudden downpour and a carefully orchestrated scheme…”
Over his decades at the helm of the Saint George Currency Exchange, the old man had developed ties with many nobles and had witnessed the rise and fall of various classes. He understood the depths to which those at the top would go for their interests, how reckless and unscrupulous they could be when pursuing their goals.
Some things, knowing was one thing, but seeing them was a completely different experience.
The old man’s tone grew grave: “Master, your original purpose for being here was to investigate the issues with the supply of provisions and address the problems at the exchange. Now, I suppose you’ve started to see the true problem.”
“Why are there bandits daring enough to intercept supplies? Why is Silgaya suffering such severe flooding, yet we heard nothing while in the Royal City? Why does news from here never get out? Why did the Holy City send the First Knights Order so late…?”
“Why, months ago, the Church’s Faith Organization had already rushed to Silgaya, yet they didn’t appear until the Moser Coast defense completely collapsed… Where are those people? Why did this downpour come so inconveniently but stop so perfectly on cue… Master, you know these things well.”
“Now that Alectine City is on the verge of collapse, many… far too many, are likely to d*e here soon. The Heretics’ assault is fierce, and your father, Captain Williams, must be prepared to d*e on the battlefield… He wishes to defend the honor of being a knight and the pride of the Williams Family. I admire that resolve.”
“If he dies here, he might be immortalized by history, countless people will respect him. But if you go and d*e here, that’s simply d*ath, nothing glorious, just unthinking bravery…”
“But we’ve come to this point, and someone among the exchange must step up… Master, you need to go out. Once outside, hurry to the Holy City and report everything that has happened here, the request for aid from the Third Knights Order, the truth behind this flood, straight to the three cardinal lords…”
“… More importantly, you need to take everything about Captain Williams, your father, and all his efforts, the reasons for our defeat in battle, to your grandfather, Cardinal Saint George, and make it public in the Holy Hall. That is your mission.”
Clang——
The old man drew his long sword, the sharp blade reflecting the light of nearby flames with a cold, resolute shimmer, just like his murky yet piercing eyes.
“Go on. Today, let this old skeleton of mine take on this foolhardy bravery for you.”
As he spoke these words, they felt like a farewell.
The old man brushed his sleeves, turning to leave, the sword angled downward as he led the guards and knights toward the battlefield.
“After everything is over, if I am still alive, feel free to blame it all on me…”
That voice carried from ten steps away, echoing in Beiyard’s ears.
Beiyard stared at the old man’s retreating figure, tears streaming down his face.
…………
The chaos and shouts swirled and boiled beneath the sky.
As the night deepened, the knights defending the northern section dwindled in number, and more Heretics flooded into the city, unleashing m*rder everywhere. They overturned bonfires, set barracks ablaze, and used knights’ heads as trophies, sticking them into the rubble. The North Gate remained steadfastly defended, but the Sin Barrier sealing the gate had dissipated.
On the tower where the bishop and clerics were stationed, flames blazed fiercely, the space filled with countless charred, ghastly corpses, the land soaked black with bl**d.
The remaining knights were cornered against the inner side of the city gate, surrounded by snarling faces like hungry wolves. They huddled together, backs turned, swinging their swords wildly at the relentless waves of Heretics, fighting fiercely. One after another, they fell, and soon, a song emerged from the clashes, a heroic yet mournful melody, much like a requiem for the warriors.
The crucifix banner planted on the battlements fell under the echoes of that song.
In the ruins of a street a few hundred meters from the gate, Knight Mor pulled his long sword from a Heretic’s chest, kicking the body aside. Then, he stumbled and knelt, bl**d spilling from his mouth.
“Mr. Mor!”
A bloodied Barry dashed over, stretching out his hand to help: “What’s wrong?!”
Mor shook his head, spitting bl**d onto the ground while feeling the deep cut on his mouth, struggling to rise as a weak smile twitched on his lips.
“d*mn it… some little scoundrel poisoned their blades…”
He lifted his gaze towards the city wall, eyes distant, and after a moment said, “Barry, do you hear that song…?”
“Mr. Mor, let me stop the bleeding on your wound first…”
“The song’s fading… We’re losing…”
Losing…
In that moment, despair washed over Barry as fear and exhaustion surged again, his hands trembling uncontrollably, fearing he could no longer grip his sword.
If they lost, they’d d*e.
“This is just… not funny at all, Brother Barry. When do you reckon the First Knights Order’s reinforcements will arrive…?”
Knight Mor looked at the young man before him, seeing the confusion and terror in his eyes.
“Your Pope Knight sister is among the reinforcements, right?”
He cracked a small joke—over the past days, the knights had affectionately referred to Barry as “Brother Barry,” after he drunkenly cut out a picture of Miss Silvya from a church pamphlet and boldly proclaimed her his sister in front of everyone. From that day on, Barry became everyone’s “big brother.”
Naturally, no one actually took the young man’s boasting too seriously, and Mor said this now just to lighten the heavy atmosphere.
“What a pity, I thought I’d at least have the chance to woo her… or at least see her once.”
