by Michael Sisa
“Yes,” nodded Lark. “And the garrisons of the Empire stationed in the mountains.”
Lark pinned several wooden pieces onto the map. “A total of eight garrisons are spread in the Yorkshaire Mountain Range. These also serve as communication relays and supply lines for the Empire. We should prioritize these eight areas before we even start a siege at Yorkshaire. It’ll be pointless, otherwise.”
Lord Argus stroked his beard. “The Yorkshaire Mountain Range is vast. How did you discover these eight garrisons of the Empire, if I may ask?”
“I’m pretty sure everyone still remembers the eagle I used before.” Lark held out a crystal. Images of the sky started appearing on it. “I’ve been using more than a dozen surveillance birds to monitor the enemies all this time. I’ve combed through the entire mountain range and I’m sure that there are only eight garrisons stationed there at the moment, and that each of them is connected with one other, acting as a supply line.”
The officers gawked at the vision crystal on Lark’s hands. Everyone here knew the significance of such artifact. The number of strategies they could employ had suddenly increased with such a thing on their side.
“Of these eight garrisons, only three of them hold significance,” said Lark. “The rest are simple relay points and would immediately collapse if those three are captured by the Kingdom.”
Lark pointed at three wooden pieces representing the three garrisons. “For this task, I’ll be needing the help of the Yorkshaire Army.”
Lord Argus looked conflicted. “I only have less than a thousand soldiers under my command now. Eight hundred and five to be exact. Although you’ve said that only three out of those eight garrisons held significance, we would still need to attack those three at the same time for this plan to work. The other garrisons will ask for reinforcements otherwise, and the entire plan will go down the drain. Splitting my soldiers into three groups…”
“You’ll be assisted by the soldiers from the Third Army,” said Lark. “And for each unit, I’ll be lending out three Blackstone Knights.”
“You don’t understand,” Lord Argus said shaking his head, “the mountains of Yorkshaire are a death trap. A lot of people die on them each year, their bodies never found, buried by the snow. Even the Empire took decades before they found a way to overcome it. These Blackstone Knights of yours will simply hinder my soldiers.”
The middle portion of the mountain was covered in snow, the slopes were steep and the rocks were sharp. This was the reason why the Yorkshaire Army, before their defeat, was uncontested in the mountains. The Empire who were used to fighting on flat land simply weren’t a match for them at all. Not until the Magic Knights who could use body-enhancement magic arrived and overturned the tide of the battle.
“Worry not,” Lark dismissed the worries of Argus. “My Blackstone Knights can surely keep up with your men. I can guarantee that. As for the soldiers of the Third Army, just think of them as porters. I’m sure they’ll also come handy once the fight breaks out.”
“After we’ve taken care of these garrisons on the mountains,” said the Sword Saint. “What’s next? Even if we capture those garrisons, if the Empire decides to play a defensive battle, it’ll be impossible for us to reclaim the City of Yorkshaire in just a month’s time.”
“No, it should be possible.” Lark took the large wooden piece representing the soldiers stationed in Akash and pinned it next to Yorkshaire City. “Especially now that we’ve got an additional eleven thousand men as a helping hand. We can hasten the production of those towers, the balloons, and the bombs.”
“Three weeks,” said Lark. “We only need to hold out in this city for three weeks until we’ve completed the movable towers. Several dozen mana bombs should be enough to smoke those guys out of that city if needed. And seven towers should be enough to act as a shield for our army.”
The towers Lark had been developing were unlike the ones he built in Lion City. These towers did not need kalrane stones to function, instead they sucked in the ambient mana and used it to fuel its magic. It was far more powerful, movable, but at the same time costed more money and time to build.
Lark felt uncomfortable recreating these towers in this era, where magic was undeveloped, but he had no choice but to rely on them to tilt the tides of war. Their enemy was simply too numerous and powerful for normal methods to overcome.
Murmurs filled the Grand Hall as the officers discussed the proposed plan. Lui Marcus, who remained silent until now, spoke, “Brother, how powerful are these so-called towers? I’ve heard of the might of the magic towers of Wizzert City. And I’ve seen one of them in action. Are you saying that these towers of yours are as powerful as those?”
Lark shook his head. “No. The towers in Wizzert are mere imitations. What we’ll be using is the real deal. Probably three to four times more powerful than the ones at Wizzert City.”
Hearing this, the entire Grand Hall broke into uproar. The claim of Lark was simply preposterous.
“L-Lies!” One of the officers could not accept Lark’s statement. “How could it be possible to create a tower much more powerful than the ones at Wizzert? And you call their towers mere imitations!”
“Calm down, Captain Abago. Surely the Commander of the Third Army has his reasons for his claims. Maybe his Master is the one behind the invention of these towers?”
“I agree with the captain. I don’t know the origin of that Master, but even for him, it should be impossible to create a magic tower three to four times more powerful than the ones in Wizzert!”
“Just because you’ve never seen it, it means it’s impossible.” Lark sighed. He remembered the shield towers in the Magic Empire capable of blocking the fire breath of a dragon. “Even if you have your doubts, I humbly ask that you let your soldiers cooperate with the creation of towers. Time is of essence and we need to win this war before our rations run out.”
The entire room burst into a heated discussion once again. This time, Lark did not interrupt them and let them argue with each other to their heart’s content. After some time, the buzzes, murmurs, and shouts eventually died down.
They came to the consensus that it would probably be better to do as Lark suggested. A defensive battle for three weeks was necessary for them to complete these so-called towers. And even if the towers weren’t as powerful as Lark claimed them to be, everyone in this room was certain of the potency of the mana bombs.
“So in the end, we’ll be abandoning this city and attacking with our entire army three weeks from now, huh?” said the Baron. He still remembered the defensive structures he saw on the way here and found it regrettable to leave those things behind.
“A half-assed attack will bite us in the back,” said Lark. “It’ll be all or nothing. And besides, if we—”
Lark stopped in the middle of his speech as he noticed something peculiar in the vision crystal. His surveillance birds noticed an army approaching the city through the burned forest.
“We have guests,” said Lark. He showed the vision crystal to everyone.
He willed the birds to come closer, revealing the image of hundreds of soldiers clad in plate armor. On their shoulders was an unknown crest.
“The Alvaren Army,” said Baron Zacharia. Everyone held their breath hearing this. “They tracked us all the way here?”
“Those Magic Knights belong to this army, right?” said Lark. “How many of them?”
“All of them,” Baron Zacharia spat through gritted teeth. Even the Sword Saint and Lui Marcus were stiff.
“The five hundred-strong army coming this way,” said the Baron, “all of them are Magic Knights.”
The unit that defeated the Sword Saint, the Marcus Army, and the First Army had arrived at Akash City.
VOLUME 4: CHAPTER 17
After chasing after the trails of the Kingdom’s soldiers, the Alvaren Army finally arrived at Akash City. Five hundred knights clad in shining plate armor halted a good distance away from the city. Near enough to
see the enemies’ movements, far enough to evade arrows.
The bells in Akash City rang, the bridge was retracted and the gates were shut. Over a hundred archers filled the battlements, their arrows nocked and pointed at the newly arrived army.
“Would you look at this,” chuckled General Alvaren. His ashen hair fluttered against the blowing wind. His hand gripped his glaive tight. “They captured and converted this city into a stronghold, huh?”
He had been to Akash City over a month ago and he was sure that it was not as fortified as this before. The moats were evidently recently-made, and those ballista-like weapons with iron disks nocked onto them were something he hadn’t seen before.
“What are your orders, General?” his adjutant asked.
General Alvaren looked at his knights; their eyes were clearly saying that they feared no one, that they would not hesitate to charge into the city with just a single command.
His guys were strong, but there was no need to purposely put themselves at a disadvantage by charging into a fortress filled with enemies several times their number. It took him decades to train his Magic Knights, after all. He did not like them to die pointless deaths.
After some thinking, he decided not to charge in recklessly. But it did not mean he would go back while leaving the damn bastards scathe-free.
“Bring out the Fortress Breaker,” said the General.
“Yes, General!”
“We’ll give the bastards a parting gift before we go back to Yorkshaire.”
Several knights dismounted and started assembling a portable weapon made of iron. It resembled a hybrid of a ballista and a cannon; the long hollow tube at the center was as long as two carriages combined.
After several minutes, the knights finished assembling the weapon and pointed it toward the gates. General Alvaren moved his mount a bit closer to the city. He gripped a magic tool which amplified his voice and roared, “Lui Marcus! Shitty brat! Come out!”
His roar was already loud enough even without the magic tool, but combined with its amplifying effect, his voice reverberated throughout the city. The soldiers in Akash started murmuring with each other. There were rumors that the Silver War God lost to General Alvaren in the previous fight.
“If you don’t come out!” the General continued to roar. “We’ll blow your puny gates into smithereens! Come out and fight me! A duel! Let’s finish the fight we started!”
On top of the battlements, stood the officers of the army—Lark, Lui, the Sword Saint, Lord Argus, and Baron Zacharia. They looked at the hundreds of knights threatening to charge into the city at any moment.
“That damn old man.” Lui gnashed his teeth. “Master Alexander, that thing they’re pointing at our gates…”
“The Fortress Breaker, yes.” The Sword Saint was as stoic as before. “The same thing they used to blow up the gates of Yorkshaire City.”
Lark amplified his eyesight using mana and stared curiously at the metallic weapon, particularly at its long hollow tube. It resembled a cannon but the base was that of a ballista. It was hard to see from afar, but he could make out what seemed to be engraved runes on its body.
A magic weapon. A portable one at that.
Lui hopped onto a merlon, about to jump down toward the ground.
“You’re not planning on answering his taunts, are you?” The Sword Saint frowned. “You’ve lost against him before—”
“—It was different back then,” said Lui. “I’ve been exhausted after dealing with his Magic Knights.”
The Sword Saint looked at Lui’s body. Although it was hardly discernible to a normal person’s eyes, he could see that the Silver War God was having a hard time moving. The large wound on his body hadn’t fully healed yet even after all this time.
“Brother,” Lark looked at Lui disapprovingly, “there’s no need for you to go out there and fight him. You’ll just die a fool’s death if you go out there now, with that body.”
Lark sighed. He tossed a vial toward his brother. Lui caught it and saw the red fluid sloshing inside.
“This is?” said Lui, still staring at the vial.
“Middle-grade healing potion,” said Lark. “A specialty of Blackstone Town. Drink it.”
Lui hesitated for a moment before he eventually opened the lid and gulped down everything inside the vial. His eyes widened seconds later. An indescribable sensation gushed inside him. He could feel the large wounds that the priests were unable to heal closing on their own. Strength started coming back to his body.
Lui stared at his little brother in bewilderment. Even in the capital, it was hard to find a healing potion as potent as this one. Even the highest-grade healing potions made in the Alchemist Workshop weren’t capable of healing large wounds in a short period of time.
“And you too.” Lark also tossed a vial toward the Sword Saint.
After seeing the effect of the potion on Lui, the Sword Saint immediately gulped down the vial’s contents. The wounds on his body also closed on their own and an indescribable surge of strength started flowing within his body.
Another shout from General Alvaren was heard: “Come out! Silver War God! Or are you telling me that the Kingdom’s so-called strongest warrior is afraid to fight me one-on-one?”
Those words were followed by mocking laughter from the Magic Knights.
Lui glared at General Alvaren’s direction. He tried jumping down the walls when he felt an invisible force stopping him from moving any further. He quickly traced the source and saw his little brother shaking his head.
“Don’t,” said Lark. “If you’re worried about the gates being destroyed by that so-called Fortress Breaker… I assure you that those gates won’t fall that easily to anything short of Grand Scale Magic.”
Lui conceded to the invisible force tugging at his armor. He went down the merlon and looked through the embrasure. The Alvaren Army started loading a blunt, long piece of iron which fitted perfectly inside the tube. Mana was poured into the runes of the portable weapon and loud buzzing sound was heard as mana was continuously sucked in by the sigils.
“All soldiers! Move out of the gates!” the Baron shouted to the soldiers below. “It’s going to be blown up!”
Hearing this, the soldiers immediately dispersed, moving far away from the gates.
“First Army!” said the Baron. “Shields up!”
The First Army, under the leadership of Baron Zacharia, formed a shield around the gates, ready to mitigate the impact from the Fortress Breaker.
Although Lark was confident that the gates he fortified himself were not going to fall that easily, he still commanded the Blackstone Knights to aid the First Army. It was better to be safe than sorry.
General Alvaren’s voice was heard again all throughout the city. “The Silver War God isn’t coming out? Bunch of cowards. Do it.”
On cue, the Fortress Breaker roared. Crimson, glowing iron which resembled lava shot toward the gates. The air around them rose several degrees as the projectile whizzed by. And upon making contact with the gates, a loud explosion occurred. The gate and the walls shook, the ground rumbled. The melted iron exploded into numerous, smaller fireballs.
The First Army braced themselves for the impact, their shields erected right before them.
But it did not come.
They bewilderedly stared at the still-intact gates. Hints of confusion evident on their faces. Even the officers of the army were stunned at the outcome. Those near Lark looked at him with quizzical eyes.
There was a loud explosion, the gates and the walls shook, but that’s all. Even the numerous smaller fireballs spat out by the attack dispersed after several seconds, as though an invisible hand swept them away into nonexistence.
“So, that is the so-called Fortress Breaker, huh?” Lark nodded to himself. “The gates I fortified will eventually fall if it’s bombarded by half a dozen of those attacks. Impressive.”
“H-Half a dozen?” Lord Argus choked the words out. He remembered that
the gates of Yorkshaire Fell after just two attacks. “But the gates… They’re not even made of iron!”
The gates were mostly wood, their rim and center reinforced with iron. It shouldn’t have been possible for them to withstand even a single attack from the Fortress Breaker.
Lark ignored Lord Argus’ mumblings. He turned to the archers from Gahelpa Village. The archers led by Valak.
“Half your entire mana should be enough,” said Lark. “The enemies are confident that our arrows can’t reach them at this distance. It’s the perfect opportunity, don’t you think so, Valak? Those fools, underestimating their enemies.”
Valak grinned, his bushy beard gave him semblance to the dwarves. “You heard the Young Master! Archers of Gahelpa! Half your entire mana!”
The archers started pouring mana into their bows, their arrows pointed at the Magic Knights.
“Ready the severing disks!” said Lark.
“Ready the severing disks!” one of the soldiers shouted.
The soldiers of the Third Army stationed on the walls started moving about. They pulled the strings of the ballista-like weapons even further, the severing disks aimed at the Alvaren Army.
Lord Argus was still unsure of what was happening. Arrows would not reach their enemies from this distance. How could those so-called severing disks, which were far heavier than arrows? He wanted to tell Lark that everything he was doing was futile, but he remembered the impossible feat just a while ago—the wooden gates withstanding an attack from the Fortress Breaker. He decided to shut his mouth and watch.
“Those bows,” the Sword Saint said, clearly amused, “they’re sucking in the mana of the archers.”
Lui Marcus and the Baron had noticed this too as they stared at the bows the archers were using.
“Let me borrow your spear.” Lark took the spear of the soldier next to him. He channeled mana into it and the spear tip started vibrating. He moved into a throwing stance, and roared, “Archers! Severing disks! Fire!”
And Lark threw the spear in the direction of General Alvaren.