Steel and Mana

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.

It was true. Since saving her, the Spear remained dormant and returned to be nothing more but a… spear. Its only actual use now was to rally the people under her. The first thing Mirian did was showcase it and announce to the world that the Spear was with her and that her claim to the throne was more legitimate than Pascal's, as the artifact of the Goddess Ariana chose her. It had a significant effect as even some of the nobles ruling the neighboring counties around the Silver Region began to side with her. However, their cooperation was cut short by the heavy snowfall.

"I will write an answer." Mirian sighed, hoping this wouldn't strain her relationship with Leon. "I will risk flying over with the Judgment if they reach Avalon… But I won't risk it for Lothlia."

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It was just as cold of a dawn as before. Yet, no conscripts could complain because the grey morning air's chill was shattered by the resounding thud of the first trebuchet launching its payload toward Lothlia. Otto's siege engines had been appropriately prepared and positioned throughout the night for the sole reason that the morning would bring the very first assault against the city. The first stone soared into the dark sky, becoming a large shadow itself, cutting through the freezing air as it hurled toward the city's walls. The soldiers below, mercenaries and conscripts alike, watched in silence, especially the latter part of the army, because they were told to attack the side where an opening presented itself.

Otto stood in the Imaginary of the Lawbringer, his airship hovering like a general at the edge of the battlefield. His eyes were focused on the first stones, tracing their path as they plummeted toward Lothlia. This would be the first test of the city's defenses—the moment that would reveal what kind of defenses they have. He knew that magical shields would not protect against physical attacks… Could they do anything to stop his boulders, or could he bring the walls down on the first try? He was about to find out.

The very first stone to be flung away was already on a downward trajectory, almost sure to strike the thick walls of Lothlia. But just as it neared its target, a bright flash erupted from somewhere within the city, painting the faraway buildings orange. In an instant, a beam of crimson firebolt streaked through the air and struck the stone mid-flight, exploding it with a loud bang. The fragments scattered in all directions, crashing to the ground, kicking up big puffs of snow, or striking the walls, but with their reduced size, they could do no real damage to it.

Otto's jaw tightened as the same spell fired again, in rapid succession, this time vaporizing a second stone before it even reached halfway to the wall. His mercenaries and engineers, witnessing the unnatural precision of the city's weapons, shifted uneasily, unsure what to do next. For a brief moment, there was a collective silence, a tense hesitation rippling through the ranks as everyone processed what they had just seen.

But then the westernmost trebuchets released their stones, letting them soar high into the sky, along with seven others. Although the same thing happened now, there were not enough spells unleashed to stop all of them. Finally, they managed to hit the walls… One of the hefty stones slammed into the western part with a dull, echoing boom, sending a plume of debris into the air. Then, the second followed soon after, crashing into the same weakened section, and the walls of Lothlia shuddered under the impact, caving in.

A breach had been made. It wasn't what Otto had expected. It was small, but enough to try attacking it.

"Send the conscripts!" He ordered, his voice cold, echoing across the deck of the Lawbringer. "I want to see what else they're capable of."

Beneath him, his officers relayed the command, and within minutes, the mass of conscripts began their forced march toward the breach. Their commanders did not offer rousing speeches or words of encouragement this time. The initial facade was discarded, and now they were openly corralled toward an inescapable demise with nothing but shouts and threats of being put to death anyway if they refused.

Otto watched as the line of conscripts from the western side, blue-lipped, shivering warriors, shuffled forward. They moved in groups of fifty, forming into loose battalions that stretched out over the snow-covered plains. In total, over a thousand men were dispatched, enough to test the city's defenses but not enough to risk the bulk of his forces. To Otto, they were expendable—pawns in a larger game. It would be worth the sacrifice if they reached the breach and forced the defenders to reveal more of their tricks.

The mercenaries remained at their campfires, sipping their morning ale and watching the conscripts with mild interest. They had no stake in this part of the battle; their time would come when the actual fighting began. They could, for now, afford to sit back and let the cannon fodder soften up the city's defenses. The only shouts were of those who made a bet, curious if they could double their daily pay or not.

As the conscripts approached the walls, the magic cannons remained eerily silent. Otto couldn't help but wonder… Was their range this short? But then… how did they shoot down the boulders? Although those spells came from within the city, not from the walls.

"Maybe it was one of those monster machines…" He whispered, clenching his fingers into a fist.

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!"