CHAPTER 270: CHAPTER 270: CONQUER THE LEFAST CITY

The city of Lefast transforms in a matter of days.

Every street, every gate, every stretch of wall bristles with activity. Blacksmiths hammer day and night, sparks flying as new spearheads and arrow tips are forged. Carpenters drag planks, beams, and ropes, fashioning barricades that can be dropped across narrow alleys. The smell of pitch and burning tar fills the air as cauldrons are prepared for the walls.

On the northern plain, soldiers work in the heat of the sun, sweating as they dig deep trenches. Wagons filled with sharpened stakes roll in, their contents planted upright until the ground bristles like a forest of wooden fangs. Engineers haul crates of alchemical powder, placing them carefully into hidden pits before covering them with soil.

From the ramparts, Velira watches, arms folded, crimson cloak tugged by the wind. Her eyes follow the lines of men and women working, every one of them moving with grim determination.

Savon rides up to her, dismounting. His boots crunch against the gravel as he steps beside her.

"You’ve whipped the city into a frenzy," he says, voice carrying the faintest edge of admiration. "In three days, Lefast has become a fortress."

Velira doesn’t look away from the fields.

"A fortress alone doesn’t win a war. It buys us time. Time to bleed them before they reach the walls."

Savon nods, then gestures toward the outer trenches where a group of soldiers struggles with massive logs, sharpening them to points.

"The men call these ’wolf teeth.’ We’ll line the plains with them. Any charge will break before it reaches our lines."

From below, a soldier wipes sweat from his brow, muttering loud enough for those around him to hear,

"Never thought I’d be digging holes instead of swinging a sword."

His companion grunts as he hauls another stake into place.

"Swing it soon enough. I’d rather dig now than fight four hundred thousand all at once."

Velira’s crimson gaze lingers on the trenches and barricades below. Her cloak snaps in the wind as she speaks, voice low but firm.

"We need to arm this city to the teeth, Savon. After all, Lefast doesn’t have a shield."

Savon exhales, the sound heavy, almost weary. He pulls off a gauntlet and rubs his brow before answering.

"My city can’t afford a shield," he admits. His voice carries no shame, only the blunt truth of a ruler who has weighed every coin. "Only the crown cities, the vital ones, are granted a shield from the kingdom. Places like Lefast are left with stone and sweat."

----

Back in her room, the noise of the bustling city is muted by thick stone walls. A single lantern burns on the table, casting long shadows over scattered maps and half-drained cups of wine.

Solven leans back in his chair, tapping the edge of the map with a finger. His voice breaks the silence.

"Oh, I almost forgot. A report just came in... the Watervale clan was defeated in a single day. Their leader is dead. The rest surrendered—to monsters."

Gresren jerks upright, eyes wide.

"What? They surrendered to monsters just to survive?"

Velira frowns, her arms crossing.

"The Watervale leader wasn’t weak. For them to fall in a day... the monsters are really that strong?"

Solven shrugs, though his tone is grim.

"It might be. But doesn’t it strike you as strange? Remember—after that incident, when two of the Empire’s Spears were killed, the Empire immediately ordered all affiliated forces to launch all-out attacks. But now? Not a single banner, not a single reinforcement from them."

Gresren shakes his head, frustration flashing in his eyes.

"So the Empire pushes everyone else to bleed and burn, but when the monsters rise like this, they stay quiet? Why?"

Solven exhales through his nose, pushing back from the table.

"Ok... let’s just not talk about this anymore. Answers won’t come tonight. What matters is tomorrow."

Gresren rubs the back of his neck, staring at the flickering lantern.

"Yeah. Tomorrow will be a hard battle."

Velira looks at the two of them, her crimson eyes steady.

"Then rest while you can. At dawn, the walls must be manned. No excuses."

The three fall into silence, the weight of her words pressing like a stone on their chests.

---

The next day, Lefast stands ready.

From the ramparts, the view stretches across the wide plains. Trenches bristle with sharpened stakes. Wooden barricades form jagged lines, and smoke drifts from cauldrons of boiling pitch set behind the walls.

Then, from the horizon, a sound rises. A low, rolling thunder, like a storm that doesn’t break.

Drums.

And then, they appear.

Four hundred thousand monsters crest the far hills, their endless ranks spilling into the plains. Armored beasts with jagged tusks. Wolf-headed warriors howling in unison. Serpentine figures slithering between lines of hulking ogres. The earth itself seems to groan under their march.

A nervous ripple moves through the human ranks. A young soldier at the wall licks his lips, voice trembling.

"Gods above... there’s too many of them."

Another grips his spear tighter, sweat running down his temple despite the chill of the morning.

"Four hundred thousand... we’ll be swallowed whole."

Velira steps forward along the battlements, her crimson cloak snapping in the wind. She raises her voice so all nearby hear.

"Fear doesn’t matter. Steel does. Hold the lines. Remember your families behind these walls—remember that every stake, every trench, every arrow is our shield!"

Savon, beside her, lifts his sword and points it toward the endless tide of monsters. His voice rings clear, sharp as steel.

"Lefast does not kneel! If they want this city, they will choke on its gates!"

A roar erupts from the men and women on the walls, shaky at first, then swelling, fierce, defiant.

The monstrous ranks part. From within their mass, a figure rises—hovering, robes whipping in the wind as if the air itself bends to her command.

Sorin.

Her voice, amplified by mana, carries across the plains like rolling thunder.

"Humans of Lefast, hear me! We will grant you a chance to live. Lay down your arms, surrender, and bow before my king. Defiance will bring only fire, blood, and your children devoured in the ruins."

The human ranks stir uneasily, whispers rippling. Some pale, some grit their teeth.

Then, green light flares.

Velira rises from the battlements, hovering beside Savon as her cloak unfurls like a banner of war. Her voice slices through the silence, hard as steel.

"Save the chit-chat. Lefast will never kneel. We do not bow to monsters."

The declaration crashes over the walls, sparking a roar from the soldiers. Spears rattle against shields, a clamor of defiance.

Far behind the monster lines, hidden among the monsters, Karnessa watches. Her eyes follow Velira, hovering proud above the city.

Her chest tightens. A whisper escapes her lips, unheard by all.

"Velira... you really came. And leading your clan members too."

She lowers her gaze, shame flickering across her features.

"Even though His Majesty has cast the Ashedge aside."

For a heartbeat, her hands tremble. But she forces herself still, tucking deeper into the shadows so Velira won’t notice her presence.

"Still... I feel bad letting you die here," she admits softly, voice breaking just slightly.

Yet she does not move. Does not raise a hand.

Her jaw clenches, eyes narrowing as she looks back toward the endless tide of monsters.

"But pity doesn’t change orders. And I will not betray His Majesty’s will."

So she hides—silent, unseen—while two women on opposite sides of war glare at each other across the no-man’s-land.

---

The monster army halts. The frontlines shift, shields slamming into the dirt, rows upon rows locking into place like an iron wall. Behind them, massive shapes roll forward—siege weapons, blackened steel frames glowing faintly with the power of mana stones.

Sorin lowers her hand. Her eyes flick toward her companions.

"What are the results of the investigation?" she asks.

Thurn’s many eyes gleam coldly. "We can’t attack anywhere. It’s full of traps—trenches, pits, wards. Every flank have traps."

Nyssara’s laughter is sharp, cruel. "Then we smash through the front. My units will lead." She gestures to the hulking shield-bearers behind her, each larger than a house, their armored hides glowing faintly with earth-imbued runes. "No trench or wall will stop us."

Veltha’s coils tighten, voice low and certain. "This ground reeks of ambush. Even here, they bury their little tricks."

Nyssara throws her head back and laughs, her sword-limbs glinting in the sun. "Let them try. My units will crush their toys into dust."

Sorin doesn’t waste another word. She raises her hand. "Then so be it. Ready the siege weapons. Begin."

The order ripples through the horde.

A roar erupts as monstrous engineers feed mana stones into the colossal weapons. Crystals flare to life—fiery reds, icy blues, crackling yellows. With a thunderous boom, the first volley launches.

Streaks of flame and spears of ice arc high into the sky before slamming into Lefast’s walls. Stone shatters. Dust billows. Soldiers stagger as the ground trembles beneath them.

"Shields! Shields up!" commanders cry.

From the battlements, ranks of mages raise glowing wards, their voices straining in unison. The shields aren’t true fortifications, but they’re the only hope of slowing the Bombermants. The air crackles as translucent domes shimmer into place, catching detonations that bloom like miniature suns overhead. Even so, burning fragments rain down, hammering the defenders and shattering stone along the walls.

Velira’s crimson eyes narrow. Her voice cuts through the chaos. "Archers! Release!"

Tens of thousands of arrows darken the sky, each one glowing faintly with fire, wind, or poison. They descend like a storm upon the frontlines of monsters.

Nyssara strides forward, her shield-units roaring in unison. Earth mana surges, and walls of stone rise before them. Arrows shatter uselessly against the bulwarks. Her laughter echoes.

"Is that all? Pathetic!"