Under the glare of the blazing midday sun, the atmosphere itself seemed to shimmer above the bloodied stone streets.
"Forward!!!"Konrad roared at the top of his lungs.
His troops answered with a determined fanatical shout as they surged ahead, their heart hammered in their chest, a fierce thrill flooding their veins while the enemy line crumpled before them, one rank after another collapsed like a sandcastle struck by a tidal wave.
The rifles were fire in disciplined unison while chaotic a blast of SMG and machine gun echoed throughout the street.
10 mm. rounds tore through flesh and bone, while the heavier 7.92×55 mm. smashed through wooden barricades and metal plating alike, splinters burst from doors and shutters. The defenders, stunned by the sheer violence of the assault, began to break, some uselessly tried to stand their ground, others fled outright, but all of them felt the same creeping terror as the 'Storm Trooper' advanced relentlessly, feeding on the fear in their enemies' eyes.
Ball grenades sailed through open windows and into hastily fortified houses, archers and crossbowmen who had taken positions behind shutters and balconies suddenly found themselves engulfed in shrapnel and rifle fire that's swept across the facades with little concern for collateral damage, as the battlefield consumes trooper's mind.
Within minutes, the attackers burst into the city's inner districts.
The contrast was almost surreal, white stone walkways wound through manicured gardens, marble fountains, decorative hedges and flowering trees lined the avenues where noble carriages were. Now, it is just another battlefield.
Most of the nobles had chosen to barricade themselves inside their mansions, clinging to their estates rather than facing the invaders, for organized resistance had all but vanished in this quarter.
Konrad and his men pressed on until they reached a broad clearing at the heart of the city.
There, rising from a jagged hill of dark stone, stood the fortress known as Blackstone.
The castle loomed like a slab of midnight against the bright sky. Multiple baileys stacked upon the hill, each ringed by thick curtain walls built from finely cut black-gray stone, a deep moat surrounded the base, carved directly into the rocky ground and filled by an ancient aqueduct that carried water from a river far beyond the city.
Narrow shooting slits dotted the walls, as round towers rose at regular intervals, every one of them was filled with defenders who rained arrows and crossbow bolts down the moment Konrad's men entered the clearing.
They tried to push forward at first, darting from cover to cover, scanning the walls for blind spots.
For hours they probed the defenses, testing angles, searching for a weakness, but the longer they stayed, the more accurate the enemy fire became. The defenders had recovered from their initial shock and now fought with clear cohesion, as the arrow and bolt began striking dangerously close.
"Retreat!" Konrad shouted, waving his arm sharply. "Get back from the clearing!"
The castle was a fortress in the truest sense of the word, without proper artillery to break open a gatehouse or batter down a section of wall, the assault would be suicide. Even the moat alone posed a serious obstacle until pontoon bridges could be brought forward.
Reluctantly, the troops fell back, as a few men were struck while retreating, bolts hitting their backs as they ran for cover, but most managed to escape into the surrounding streets.
Their temporary refuge became the mansion of some unfortunate noble family, the gate had been forced open, and soldiers now occupied the courtyard and halls. The residents themselves stood off to the side under watch, pale and silent, as their household guards had either surrendered or been shot during the fighting, leaving them little choice but to endure their new guests.
Inside the cool marble foyer, Konrad removed his helmet and took a deep breath of fresh air, sweat had soaked his hair beneath the metal. Now that the adrenaline was fading, exhaustion crept into his limbs.
"Signaler," he said, wiping his brow, "How long before the reinforcements arrive?"
The young operator checked the morse code in his scribbled notes.
"They'll be late sir, Marshal Elena's column was ambushed by a goblin horde along the road. They're regrouping now but the delay could be significant."
"Of course they were." Konrad grimaced.
"And Lady Arina's force has already reached the city wall," the signaler continued, hesitating slightly.
"That's good news!" Konrad smiles.
"Well… they're currently waiting for her."
"Waiting?"
"Lady Arina, she's.... changing her clothes.... at the moment..." the signaler answered.
Konrad stared at him blankly then, his outrage burst.
"Changing clothes? While the battle is still going on!?! Unbelievable! those damn Euraskan!!!" Konrad shouted in anger a while rubbing his temples for a moment, before asking the next question with an irritated tone, "And the artillery?"
"Some of the rubble blocking has been cleared, Howitzers and Field guns are moving up now, high command wants us to secure a firing position for them."
For the first time in several minutes, Konrad allowed himself a true smile.
"Well," he muttered, adjusting the strap on his armor, "that's at least one piece of real good news, thanks for the information, dismissed!"
He speaks, then set his helmet back under his arm and strode toward the doorway.
Outside, the sunlight was already beginning to soften as the day crept toward evening. The long shadows of garden statues stretched across the courtyard, as in the distance, the shadow of Blackstone castle still loomed over the city like a mountain of fortress.
Konrad quickened his pace.
He had other squad leaders and even a captain to meet, as they're going to brainstorming a new plan before nightfall. With reinforcements delayed, every decision now rested on the men already inside the city and their intuition.
-----
Under the gleaming silver light of the twin moons, inside the Blackstone castle council room.
"What should I do?" Marquis Scrofa le Massif whispered, his face twisted in anger as he gazed out the window. His city had basically already fallen, In a single day, the enemy had broken through the walls, rushed into the inner city, and were now preparing to besiege the castle itself.
Everyone else in the room remained silent, for they too did not know how to answer such question.
At last, a lowly baronet spoke up, offering a question of his own in a shaky voice."H... How about we surrender? Their demands couldn't be that bad, right?"
Everyone in the room, including the Marquis himself, turned to glare at him with angry eyes.
"Never! They came here and attacked us without any announcement. They charged straight to the castle without making a single demand. What do you think they're after?" the Marquis replied as he stepped away from the window.
"Maybe… our gold?" the baronet answered uncertainty.
The Marquis shook his head, then pulled something from beneath his silky garments. It was an amulet, a simple and plain five-pointed star pendant made from molded iron.
"I think they know who we really are," the Marquis said quietly,"And they want our sacred grove for themselves."
His words sent everyone in the room into a state of esoteric calm.
"Then what do we do, Prophet?!" the baronet asked again, the title he used to mention Scrofa le Massif now changed.
"Fear not, my child! We simply accelerate our plan straight to its conclusion! Bring out the Kris (Dagger), and prepare the grove for the premature ritual."
Everyone in the room bowed their heads in reply, at the same moment, they pulled their own amulets from deep beneath their garments, along with a set of dark stone kris daggers inscribed with eldritch runes that's hidden behind their backs.
They rose from their seats and quickly left the room, their eyes filled with fanatical determination. One by one, they made their way toward a secret chamber hidden in the dark corner of the castle. There, beneath the halls of black stone, lay the jet-black gates buried deep below, surrounded by layers upon layers of slumbering eldritch and alien vegetation.
-----
At the same time, beneath the library of the Spring Palace inside a hidden basement where the secret meeting room was located.
"What the fuck is happening?!?" Princess Gloria swore in confusion as she used her 'Farsight' magic to spy on the battle unfolding in the great city of Vertenville. Her supposed allies of Vindia were fighting one of her brother's most valuable allies, before coming to meet with her.
Meanwhile, Marquise Isabelle sat calmly in her seat with her usual playful smile, while Duke Wulfgang stared at the Princess with a concerned expression, like a loyal dog that's worried for its owner.