On the distant front lines, the moment Miro Fortress fell, the allied noble forces collapsed like a structure stripped of its support, breaking apart completely.
In just half a month, Godrick personally led his army forward like a raging tide, smashing through everything in their path.
At last, according to plan, they reached their destination.
And so, under the enemy's relentless advance, the great siege of Miro Fortress began.
With the fall of Saintsbridge, the entire western region of Limgrave slipped into the hands of the Golden Descendants as easily as ripe fruit.
The final news to reach the city came from a unit fleeing in from the west just before the main gate closed.
They were the garrison stationed along the only route between the front lines and Miro Fortress, a battered force led by a young noble named Diego, whose fighting spirit had yet to fade.
It was he who stepped forward, gathered the scattered survivors, and brought them here.
At that time, Nolan was still the flawless hero everyone admired and trusted. Hope had not yet been extinguished.
But when they saw it with their own eyes, the endless Stormveil army stretching beyond sight, packed together like a swarm of ants, despair began to rise from deep within their hearts, spreading little by little…
"There are more of them this time than ever before!" he said, his face filled with shock.
"I've fought on the front lines for years, but I've never seen a force this large."
"Even if the other nobles send reinforcements, breaking through this encirclement would be nearly impossible."
"They have the Golem Legion under the Golden Descendant's direct command, along with multiple units of humans and slaves, and elite knight regiments stationed behind them."
As his words fell, the heavy gates slowly shut with a dull, echoing thud.
Throughout the night, the guards on the walls could hear the enemy's noise outside, chaotic and relentless.
In the darkness, no one could tell how many soldiers had crossed the bridge.
But when the dim morning light finally came, it became clear that their fears had not exaggerated the truth.
Across the vast plain, enemy troops filled the land in a dense, black mass, stretching as far as the eye could see.
The forces surrounding Miro Fortress resembled an endless swarm, pressing in from all sides.
Around the city, countless white and golden tents had been set up. The enemy had clearly come prepared for a full-scale siege.
The Stormveil army moved like tireless ants.
They had no time to dig trenches or construct proper siege engines. Instead, they launched direct assaults against the towering walls.
In these past days, countless lives had been thrown into the grinder of war.
The defenders of Miro Fortress could only watch as the enemy pressed forward with reckless determination. Despite their urgency, they had no effective way to stop them.
Each time an assault was driven back, more formations followed, wave after wave, an unending tide.
At first, the people within the city still held confidence and courage. The sight of heavily armored soldiers with drawn blades did not shake them.
Because the hero who defended this city had once achieved extraordinary victories.
His strength shone like the stars, brilliant and unstoppable.
Whether iron armor or towering walls, nothing seemed able to withstand him.
But now, that revered hero had yet to appear on the battlefield.
Instead, something far more intense took shape before their eyes.
Massive crossbows, Jar Cannons, and small catapults were drawn taut by the defenders, their mechanisms creaking under strain.
Amid their shouted commands, ropes tightened rapidly through pulleys, and charges were carefully loaded into the weapons.
Countless projectiles shot into the sky like arrows loosed from a bow, tearing through the air with a sharp whistle before falling like a deadly rainstorm.
They arced over the city walls and crashed down at terrifying speed into the densely packed ranks below.
Some struck the towering Golems head-on. Thunderous explosions followed as their massive bodies collapsed under the impact.
The force of their fall crushed the surrounding soldiers instantly, turning the ground into a mangled mass of flesh and blood.
Panic spread through the ranks.
Men cursed helplessly at the lumbering giants they could not escape, but their voices were quickly swallowed by the chaos of the battlefield.
Behind them, the knights kept charging forward without hesitation, paying no mind to the lives of those ahead.
Orders to advance were passed along continuously, shouted from one messenger to the next.
Before long, the defenders of Miro Fortress fell into another low point.
Godrick's army was simply too vast, suffocating in its sheer scale.
The enemy's advance grew faster and faster, until even reloading the weapons could no longer keep up.
Just as morale teetered on the brink of collapse, it was suddenly steadied again.
Shouts rose once more, and spears drove into the invading ranks.
Because above the residence that symbolized their Lord's authority, a figure had appeared.
Larger and more formidable than even the dreaded Golems.
A dragon.
An ancient dragon soared across the vast sky.
Her immense form was both fierce and beautiful, straining with the full force of her power.
The lightning that carried her will became even more destructive, arcs of crackling energy dancing through the air.
She circled overhead like a raging storm cloud.
Clearly wary of the massive weapons below, she kept carefully beyond their range.
Even so, her thunderous roars filled the battlefield.
Each deafening cry forced advancing soldiers to falter where they stood.
Each bolt of lightning that struck claimed dozens, sometimes hundreds of lives in an instant.
As time passed, and the Ancient Dragon swept across the sky again, even those who once prided themselves on their courage began to lose the will to fight.