Atop the towering city wall, Count Hyde suddenly shoved the guard in front of him half a step aside. His pupils trembled as he fixed his gaze on that white figure.
He saw Vyke running, his war spear raised high and wrapped in golden lightning, and a trace of horror appeared in his eyes.
Just then, a deep impact sounded from the front of the formation, like muffled thunder rolling through the ground, making the earth tremble faintly.
Count Hyde quickly retreated. Several of his subordinates had been standing in front of him from the start, holding up Greatshields to protect the young Castellan.
They raised their shields as they waited, blocking the sharp Longswords outside the metal barrier, only to be forced backward under the pressure.
There were simply too many enemies surging forward. This was not a duel between champions at the front of the lines. It was a crush of bodies.
The sturdy shields blocked countless blades, leaving innumerable scars crisscrossing across their surfaces. From them, one could faintly see the cruelty of war and the fragility of life.
"Years from now, the world will turn this war into legend, and the bards will sing of it. And we will spread the flame of hope to every corner of the world."
The fervor of Stormveil's soldiers as they pressed forward was plain for all to see.
Their will far surpassed what outsiders imagined. It was as if this war were not merely an expansion of territory, but a pursuit of something far greater.
Their true target was not Count Hyde before them. They believed in a King, the master of Stormveil Castle, the great fire spoken of by the Ancient Dragon Priest.
In this cruel world, the human spirit needed something to rely on. Otherwise, it was far too easy to break.
Perhaps one day, or in a single instant, the defenses in people's hearts would suddenly collapse, leaving them weeping and wailing.
And Faith was undoubtedly an effective place to put one's heart.
In Stormveil Castle, there was no one who had not paid homage to the statue of that Tarnished Lord.
People praised his wisdom, mercy, and valor with songs and blessings, seeing him as the King who brought hope and a future.
Thus, people found support in Faith, and strength within Faith. The Firebearer Knight was no different. The power Vyke held in his hand came from Faith.
That roaring golden lightning was dazzling as the sun in the night, as though the King's power were manifesting through him.
At that breathless moment, a sharp, piercing howl, like a demon from hell, suddenly tore upward from below, piercing through the floor and rushing onto the city wall.
Immediately after, hurried footsteps came closer and closer, like a surging flood rapidly closing in.
Those footsteps were filled with urgency and panic, making even the hearts of those who heard them race.
Someone was sprinting up that narrow stairway toward the Count's remaining troops.
Vyke charged out like an enraged mad dragon, striding forward as his howling war spear slammed into a heavy shield. Count Hyde's eyes were filled with immense terror.
Count Hyde had no time to listen as the Captain of the Knights continued trying to convince him they would surely win. He shoved the man aside and fled backward on his own.
At that moment, the frail young man showed stamina and agility that were no worse than those of the knights protecting him.
Yet as he felt the free sea breeze blow across him, he realized he had nowhere left to run.
Just as he turned and took a step, the knights braced in front were struck by a tremendous force and sent flying into the air one after another.
The Greatshields in their hands were the final line of defense, yet under the force of that impact, even the last of their lives seemed to be wrung dry.
The knights' bodies slammed hard against the wall like kites with severed strings, letting out piercing screams.
The shields standing in the way either shattered or were knocked aside the instant they touched the lightning spear, and unchanging blood splashed beneath the moonlight.
Vyke lunged forward, the path of his war spear tracing through the night sky like a brilliant ribbon.
Such a long ribbon would have been enough to wrap a beautiful gift, but its actual path was as simple as could be. A single straight line.
Cold sweat poured from every pore on Count Hyde's body. He froze.
Something sharp pierced through his chest.
"My Lord, it's time to end this." Vyke had somehow appeared behind him and run him through.
"You... lowborn wretch who trampled the land of House Hyde," Count Hyde said with difficulty.
"You dare kill me? I am... a Golden Noble. No, I am eternal gold. I will not die!"
"You will die. The Golden Lineage has long since passed. What more could you be?" Vyke said.
The knights stared blankly at Vyke and Count Hyde.
That was right. Even Godrick, a Demigod, had died. What could a Golden Noble amount to?
There was no spare time to think, because the clash of blades rang out once more.
Bloodshed and death. That was how every war ended.
The fortress had lost its master and its will to resist. The knights and soldiers of Stormveil Castle had taken another city for their King.
Dawn soon arrived. Before the warriors who had breached the city even had time to celebrate, a scout walked through the field of corpses and into the Castellan's hall.
"Have those hunters been dealt with?" Vyke asked.
"Lady Eleonora is pursuing them," said the scout in black armor.
"And the southern expedition?"
"Lady Nepheli's forces met fierce resistance at the Bridge of Sacrifice from Castle Morne. The battle has made no progress for now."
Vyke could not help frowning. The lands around Stormveil had long since been conquered by them. This was the final war.
The original plan had been for him and Nepheli to each lead an army and advance together, taking the last two hard bones in this land in one stroke.
Now it seemed Nepheli had clearly run into trouble, but Vyke did not blame her for incompetence.
Though Castle Morne was as well known as Fort Haight, the former's territory was several times larger than the latter's. It was indeed much harder to attack.
Just as Vyke was calculating how many troops he should send to reinforce Nepheli, the scout spoke again.
"There is one more thing. Lady Dolores asked me to inform you that Leyndell's envoy has arrived."
"What?" Vyke suddenly stood up.
The instant the Firebearer Knight lost his composure, two people in the distant north made the same movement. Nolan and Melina, sitting on their beds, stood up.
They had slept well last night, separated by only a wall. This morning, their shared reaction was to rise, walk to the balcony, and look at each other from less than a meter apart.
It had become a habit.
Though the Cleanrot Knights had wanted to arrange for their King and the Kindling Maiden to stay farther apart, they had failed because of the influence of that so-called rule that they "must not be separated."
Since they could not separate the two, they could only put more thought into the limited distance between them. For example, by using a thick wall to keep them apart at night.
"What a waste of effort. If Melina really wanted to do something to me, how could one wall stop a spirit-form girl?" Nolan complained helplessly in his heart.
Nolan met the unblinking girl's gaze and asked, "How do you feel?"
"Not bad. The smell of flowers everywhere seems to help calm the mind. After I fell asleep last night, I didn't wake up once," Melina said after thinking for a moment.
"That's not what I meant." Nolan pressed a hand to his forehead. "I'm asking whether coming to this place has helped clear that little head of yours a bit."