Chapter 92: Jon Rides Alone
Tyrosh, the Purple Palace
In the first light of dawn, the army of The Chainbreakers surrounded the massive iron gates of the Purple Palace like an unstoppable tide.
Although Jon had been leading the charge personally, the number of defenders remained considerable. To his surprise, the enemy commander had completely abandoned the mercenary units, pulling all organized forces back into the palace.
While the allied forces had already taken control of the outer city of Tyrosh, everyone understood that the Purple Palace was the true heart of power.
To systematically crush the defenders' morale, Jon had spent the entire night ordering mercenaries to harass the walls—creating noise, movement, and the illusion of imminent siege.
His goal was simple: break their will before breaking their defenses.
Earlier, Jon had selected a captive messenger and sent him into the fortress with a letter—offering the Tyroshi a final chance to surrender with dignity.
Now, all that remained… was their answer.
Jon turned to look at the soldiers behind him.
A rare sense of satisfaction rose in his heart.
These men had followed him across countless battlefields. And today… would mark their first truly decisive victory.
The warriors of The Chainbreakers stood in formation, their expressions cold and resolute. Their presence was suffocating—like gods of slaughter forged from mountains of corpses and rivers of blood.
After a full night's rest, they were ready.
Their armor reflected the morning light like countless stars, illuminating the path forward.
Their eyes burned with determination—victory was not a hope, but an expectation.
They were no longer mere soldiers.
They were an army shaped by a Dragonlord.
"Narsas," Jon said calmly, standing at the very front, cloak snapping in the wind.
"Still no response? That messenger has been inside for quite a while."
"My lord…"
Before Narsas could finish—
Thud!
A mangled corpse was thrown from a murder hole in the Outer Fort.
Limbs twisted. Flesh torn apart.
From the shredded remains of the rainbow banner, Jon instantly understood the answer.
"Listen well, you filthy invaders!"
a herald shouted from the walls.
"The noble people of Tyrosh will never surrender!"
A wave of fury rippled through the ranks.
"Lord Jon—no, Lord Aegon! Give the order!"
"Our Wolf Pack has waited long enough!"
"We have siege engines—why hesitate?"
"Kill them all!"
Jon raised a hand.
Silence fell instantly.
"I will not waste my soldiers on that fortress," he said coldly.
"That would be meaningless."
His gaze turned toward the towering defenses.
"Since they seek death… I will grant it to them."
A terrifying pressure seemed to spread from him—like something ancient stirring behind his existence.
The Purple Palace was not a simple castle.
Built along a mountainside, its elevation alone gave it a massive defensive advantage. In front stood the Outer Fort—reinforced with towers, murder holes, and narrow killing corridors.
Even if attackers broke the main gate, they would be funneled into a confined passage, slaughtered from above and both sides.
It was a fortress designed to grind armies into dust.
And it was precisely this confidence that allowed Saeraes Moss to rally the Tyroshi nobles into resistance.
He knew well—anyone trying to force their way in would pay dearly.
Night soon fell.
Despite repeated requests from his officers, Jon refused to launch an assault.
Instead, he issued two simple orders:
Continue harassment operations
Rotate troops for proper rest
As for himself, Jon returned to his command tent.
He was thinking.
Whether or not… to become a dragon.
Meanwhile, atop the Outer Fort—
Several exhausted Tyroshi soldiers kept watch through narrow observation slits.
They had endured an entire day and night of harassment.
They did not dare relax.
Outside, the growing number of siege towers loomed like silent threats.
If they lowered their guard even for a moment, the enemy might strike.
"Do these people never get tired…" one guard muttered, slumping slightly.
Nearby, others huddled together under cloaks, trying to rest between shifts.
This was a life-or-death defense.
No one dared disobey orders.
"Stay focused," another soldier said.
"Commander Moss has already sent for reinforcements. As long as we hold—"
Crack… Boom…
"…Did you hear that?"
"Hear what? I didn't—"
Hiss… hiss…
The second guard leaned forward, pushing his head through the slit to look outside.
In the next instant—
A grotesque mouthpart snapped shut.
"AAAAHHH—!!"
Before he could even scream properly, his head was crushed.
A foul, acidic liquid poured through the opening, dripping into the chamber.
"Enemy attack!!"
Panic erupted.
Soldiers scrambled for weapons.
From beyond the walls came horrifying sounds—
Hiss… hiss…
Boom… boom…
This chamber, located above a murder hole, could house nearly a hundred soldiers.
And now—it had become the breach point.
The Giant Poison Spiders, summoned through the Magic Stone, had begun their assault.
Using corrosive venom, they melted the observation slit.
Then, with their massive claws, they tore the opening wider.
The defenders, already exhausted and mentally strained, were in no condition to face such horrors.
Fear spread like wildfire.
And then—
Jon stepped inside.
"Kill them! Kill the monsters! And that man—he's with them!"
"Those rumors… monsters during the siege—so it's true?!"
"What do we do?!"
They didn't have time to decide.
Jon made the decision for them.
He drew Dark Sister, shifting it into staff form—and infused it with fire magic.
BOOM!
A fireball blasted forward—
A soldier's head exploded like a smashed melon.
Chaos erupted.
Jon advanced without hesitation, casting again and again.
Within moments, over ten soldiers fell, consumed by flames.
Hissssss—!
The Giant Poison Spiders surged forward, tearing into the remaining defenders.
"Help—!!"
"Monsters!"
"A fire demon—!"
The soldiers broke.
Completely.
Weapons were dropped. Formation collapsed.
Some fled. Others screamed.
None could resist.
And as their terrified cries echoed through the fortress—
The entire Outer Fort was awakened.
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