Siege

Translator: Cinder Translations

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Quill Foster carefully polished his long sword. This weapon, entrusted to him by his father, was finally going to see use—not for a contest of skills with others, but to take the lives of the enemies he would soon face.

Yesterday afternoon, General Shelby Basker, the supreme commander of the allied forces, issued the order to attack. That evening, the soldiers feasted on meat, celebrating their preparation for battle, and after a night of rest, the fighting began at dawn.

The first obstacle the allied forces needed to overcome was the three ditches surrounding the fortress of the Church's army. For this, they had specifically prepared siege vehicles designed to fill in the ditches. These vehicles were equipped with defensive shields, and their sides and tops were covered with leather to protect the soldiers from enemy arrows as they moved the vehicles closer to the ditches, where they would dump their loads of earth and stone. A total of twenty such vehicles were prepared.

The enemy's defenders, of course, would not remain idle while their defenses were breached. A barrage of arrows, crossbow bolts, and stones rained down on the advancing siege vehicles. The losses suffered by the allied forces exceeded their prior estimates; when the first ditch had three wider passages filled in, they had already lost eight vehicles, and by the time they could pass through the second ditch, only two vehicles remained, along with hundreds of casualties.

With a grim expression, General Basker ordered the execution of the second plan. A large number of prisoners—many of whom were unfortunate civilians—were gathered from the rear and sent charging towards the third ditch, each carrying bags filled with sand.

Quill looked upon these poor souls with pity, as they rushed toward the ditch in groups like ants transporting their burdens. Along the way, many were struck down by arrows or stones, some falling to the ground, never to rise again, while others struggled to avoid being trampled by their fellow companions.

Finally, some fortunate ones reached the edge of the third ditch. They dropped the sandbags they had been carrying and, without hesitation, turned back to flee. These individuals were lucky; by discarding a bag, they would reduce their punishment.

While the enemy concentrated their fire to prevent the third ditch from being filled, Basker organized his men to widen the passages through the first two ditches. Ultimately, they managed to create a 200-yard-long passage that allowed a large troop to advance.

"It's our turn!" Quill exclaimed, his expression resolute as he strapped on his visor-style helmet.

"Kid," General Basker said beside Quill, grasping his shoulder and embracing him. The sound of their armored bodies clashing echoed in the air.

"Your father and I will be proud of you."

Basker had known Quill's father, Marquis Foster, for a long time, and he regarded Quill as if he were his own kin.

Quill nodded silently at General Basker and turned to find his prepared subordinates. Soon he regrouped with them and set off with the siege vehicle assigned to him. Their target was located about twenty meters to the right of the fortress gate.

The troops responsible for the assault wore high-quality armor and wielded their preferred weapons, being skilled nobles or professional warriors. Although they were assigned to the siege vehicle, it was not their job to push it; that task was handled by a group of common soldiers, who shouted loud war cries as they pushed the siege vehicle forward step by step.

The siege vehicle used by the Horns Bay Alliance was a tower-like structure with three wheels on each side for movement. The common soldiers, lacking proper protection, were shielded from incoming arrows by shields attached to the pushing rods on either side of the vehicle. Meanwhile, Quill and the others crouched behind the vehicle, holding their round shields high and advancing in step with the siege vehicle.

The ground was littered with the bodies of those who had died filling in the ditches; some lay on the ground, seemingly still alive, reaching out to the advancing troops for help, but at such a critical moment, no one paid them any mind.

Quill forced himself to ignore the cries of the wounded and concentrated on the path ahead. The arrows shot from the fortress struck the siege vehicle with ringing sounds, heightening the tension of everyone behind it.

If it weren't for the tall vehicle blocking their way, wouldn't he and his companions be turned into pincushions? Quill thought.

The terrifying battlefield atmosphere made it impossible to estimate time, and he had no idea how long had passed. Suddenly, a loud crash was heard as the platform atop the siege vehicle dropped down. Below the platform was a pickaxe-like device that secured the vehicle tightly against the wall, making it impossible for the enemy to remove it in a short time.

"Kill!" As soon as Quill heard the platform collide with the wall, he drew his long sword and shouted.

"For victory! For the Alliance! For everyone who endures the injustices of the Church, charge!"

Before his words had even faded, he leapt first onto the ladder of the siege vehicle, raising his shield and brandishing his sword in a manner that showed he was ready to face death. His subordinates, inspired by his fervor, also brandished their weapons and surged forward.

The top of the siege vehicle featured a square opening that connected to the ladder below. Quill climbed through this opening to the top of the tower structure, then quickly stepped onto the platform already set against the wall. He soon encountered an enemy soldier from the Church, who brandished a spear, the sharp tip thrusting towards him.

With some energy to spare, Quill didn't want to test the defensive capabilities of his armor, so he sidestepped the spear and pressed his shield against his chest as he charged forward. Weighing around 250 to 260 pounds, including his armor, the impact he created was formidable, scattering the Church soldiers gathered at the climbing point. One soldier, struck by Quill's shield, collapsed unconscious.

Seizing this precious opportunity, Quill pressed forward, making space for his brothers behind him, and this time he swung his long sword, inflicting terrible wounds on at least three enemies within a few breaths.

The defending soldiers were not weaklings; soon, elite Church soldiers, well-equipped and no less formidable than Quill and his allies, rushed in, leading to a chaotic melee atop the wall.

The sounds of battle—shouts of killing, cries of anguish, and the clash of swords and armor—filled the air, creating a cacophony of chaos.

(End of the Chapter)

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