The fighting was concentrated around the front gate. At first, only a handful of guards or patrolling soldiers came trickling in to feed the mercenaries, but a quarter of an hour after the warning horn sounded, small squads of Northland Legion soldiers had begun rushing over to provide reinforcement. However, compared to the numerous mercenaries who thrived in chaotic melees and night fighting, a squad of roughly a hundred soldiers couldn't hold on for long. Most of them barely understood what was happening before they were suddenly ambushed by the mercenaries, finding themselves surrounded and reduced to desperately holding on while praying for a sizable relief force to arrive.
Cries of battle, screams of agony, and the clash of steel also rang out along the walls. This was Vashinma leading his bodyguards and household soldiers to sweep the enemy garrison from the ramparts.
Organized footsteps sounded after more than half an hour. Three squads of Northland Legion soldiers, fully armed and formed into three square formations, arrived at the gate. The Silver Knights at the front spotted the gates thrown wide open from a distance, with two wooden structures beside them engulfed in flames. Two to three hundred enemies in grey leather armor were besieging roughly thirty Northland Legion soldiers who had bunched together in a desperate defensive knot. Upon noticing the newcomers, the grey-armored enemies detached nearly a hundred men and charged…
The Silver Knights let out a quiet sigh of relief. The enemy wasn't numerous—they had three squads on their side, more than enough to wipe out the foe, retake the gate, and hold North Wilds Town. The Silver Knights reined their mounts aside, and one of them raised his lance and called out orders to the charging enemy: "Longbowmen, prepare to—urk—"
A thrown lance pinned him and his horse to the ground in a single blow.
"Loose!" A voice rang out from above. At some point, the buildings on both sides of the road had become lined with soldiers who nocked arrows and drew their bows. Arrows rained down in a torrent, interspersed with dozens of throwing lances. The Northland Legion soldiers arrayed in three square formations were struck as if bludgeoned from above, their ranks collapsing into rout. The longbow formation took the worst of it—an entire volley of arrows and throwing lances, half aimed squarely at them. Caught completely off guard with neither armor nor cover, most of the longbowmen quickly fell to the ground, while the survivors fled with their heads in their hands.
Three volleys of arrows and throwing lances were loosed, and then a cry of "Kill!" erupted. Nearly a hundred figures leaped down from above, and together with the mercenaries charging from the gate, they fell upon the remaining Northland Legion soldiers in a massacre.
It was indeed a massacre. The hundred-odd surviving Northland Legion soldiers had lost all will to fight. First, they lacked any organization—the Silver Knights leading them had all perished under Lorist's thrown lances. Second, the ambush from above had terrified them to their core, and apart from instinctively parrying blows directed at them, they scurried about like headless flies, thinking only of fleeing as fast as possible.
The mercenaries who had leaped from the rooftops cut off their escape, and together with the mercenaries charging from the gate, they pincered the trapped soldiers from front and rear. It didn't matter whether the soldiers begged for mercy or tried to resist—eyes blazing with the frenzy of slaughter and the promise of loot, the mercenaries gleefully hacked down these moving little coffers of gold one by one, claiming them as their trophies…
Torches flared to life atop the city wall, and the cries of battle fell silent. Several torches began circling through the air — a signal that the wall and the gate had been taken and the enemy guards eliminated.
Lorist fixed his gaze on the torches circling above the wall, silently tallying in his head. Over a hundred guards had been killed on the wall itself, plus the twenty-odd he had dispatched while climbing up — call it a hundred and fifty. Another dozen or so had fallen at the gate, and the scattered soldiers who had charged in piecemeal along with the small squad cut down by the mercenaries amounted to roughly another hundred and fifty. The slaughter in the streets was now drawing to a close — three squads, about three hundred men — which meant that out of the seven hundred Northland Legion soldiers garrisoning Northwild Town, only around a hundred enemies remained, along with that Golden Knight commander. Strange. Why hadn't that Golden Knight shown up yet? What was going on?
"Redy, let's move." Lorist leaped lightly from the second-story rooftop, drifting to the ground as gently as a falling leaf.
Redy, whom Lorist had called over, did not have it so easy. With the two quivers of throwing lances on his back — now more than half empty — he first descended to an adjacent first-story roof, then jumped down, splattering himself with blood and mud in the process…
Paulbins appeared from somewhere, leading over a dozen warhorses. He was mounted himself. "My lord, I found a stable…"
Lorist stepped into the stirrup and swung onto his horse. Redy likewise climbed aboard without ceremony, then picked out several guards clad in double-layered iron armor and had them mount up and follow behind Lorist.
"Paulbins, send word to Vasingham. Have two squads of Family soldiers hold the two city gates. In addition, tell Vasingham to bring his personal guards and rendezvous with me. You are to take charge of the two Family squads — gather up weapons and arm our Family soldiers with proper longbows," Lorist ordered.
"Yes, my lord."
…
Knight Hennerd felt as though his skull was splitting apart. He had drunk too much again tonight.
The soldiers had found wealth and gold and silver items from those residents' homes.
It was staggeringly wealthy. From the secret chamber of that so-called alchemist grandmaster alone, they had unearthed three large chests filled with Empire Old Head gold coins, each chest containing fifty thousand. The wealth obtained from those so-called Four Great Families alone exceeded two hundred thousand gold Forde, not to mention countless gold and silver utensils—among them over a dozen sets of gold and silver tableware such as plates and bowls, to say nothing of jewelry. The chests of various sizes storing these items had already filled three large rooms.
The Duke had truly struck it rich this time. It was something Knight Hennerd had taken to saying often lately. But he hadn't worked for nothing, either. Aside from that old stubborn Cheveny, Knight Hennerd and the Silver Knights had tacitly divided up some of the unregistered wealth among themselves. All told, his own personal coffers had received around thirty thousand gold Forde, while each
Tch—who didn't know that once the wealth entered the Duke's coffers it would never come back out as rewards? Getting even one percent would have been considered extraordinarily generous. So Knight Hennerd simply turned a blind eye, and he didn't make the soldiers hand up the hidden wealth they found when searching the residents' empty houses—so long as these soldiers dutifully handed over the lion's share to him and the Silver Knights. After all, sharing the joy was better than enjoying it alone; only this way would the soldiers be more obedient to his commands.
Sometimes when he thought about it, Knight Hennerd felt the
Even more foolish than the Norton Family were the residents of Northfield Town. With such a benevolent lord, instead of swearing undying loyalty, these subjects had done nothing but undermine their lord at every turn—refusing to obey his commands, raising troops in rebellion, and even colluding with outsiders in hopes of obtaining noble titles. In Knight Hennerd's view, even if the Norton Family were the Duke's enemies, these treacherous, ungrateful residents of Northfield Town were even more repulsive. So slaughtering them left him perfectly at peace, without the slightest burden of conscience. On the contrary, he believed that as a Gold Knight, exterminating these women, children, and the elderly was an act of the utmost justice, in no way violating a knight's honor.
After killing off the men, old men, boys, mothers, aunts, and infants, the five or six thousand residents of Northfield Town had been reduced to just three types of women. The first were girls between ten and fifteen years of age—these were popular commodities on the market. Some nobles with a taste for training would pay high prices to purchase these girls and mold them into personal maids and the like. The second were virgins between fifteen and twenty—these could fetch an excellent price, which went without saying. The third were young women, who were the most popular among the soldiers. They allowed the soldiers to relax and vent, to do with as they pleased. If one died, it was just a small fine. Taking them back might not bring a great price, but for the Duke they represented a considerable source of income.
After capturing Northfield Town and reaping a vast harvest of wealth, Knight Hennerd and Knight Cheveny had come to blows. Knight Hennerd argued it would be best to first escort the wealth back to please the Duke, and the Norton Family could be dealt with at their leisure. Knight Cheveny, however, flatly refused. He believed the Duke's orders were to punish the Norton Family, and that the gains from Northfield Town were merely incidental. Only by first destroying the Norton Family and then bringing back the spoils would the Duke be truly pleased.
Well, Knight Cheveny was the commanding general of this expedition, and Knight Hennerd had no choice but to acquiesce. He allowed Knight Cheveny to lead a force of three thousand to attack the Norton Family, while he himself remained behind under the pretext of guarding Northfield Town and looking after the haul of wealth, free to enjoy himself as he pleased. He couldn't be bothered with the outcome of Knight Cheveny's battles ahead. In his view, if they won, everything would work out fine and he'd have a share of the credit too. If they lost, Knight Cheveny would finally heed his advice and retreat to Northfield Town to escort the wealth to the Duke as he had originally suggested. Then it would be Cheveny, that old fossil, who'd get the tongue-lashing, while he himself would have earned merit for safeguarding the wealth.
Yesterday Knight Cheveny had made a brief return, recounting the difficulties of the campaign and the ambush suffered by the escort convoy carrying the wounded, and he warned Knight Hennerd to defend Northfield Town with vigilance. Knight Hennerd outwardly agreed with deference, but inwardly dismissed it all. The Norton Family had already retreated into a defensive posture, and all that remained outside were two or three hundred hired mercenaries—what was there to fuss about? So long as they maintained careful watch over the Norton Family's main castle and denied the roaming mercenaries any opportunity for surprise attacks, in two or three months at most the mercenaries would surely be unable to hold out. Without the mercenaries providing support from outside, what waves could the Norton Family possibly stir up? As for the fortress construction site at Morgren Hills, that was even easier to deal with—once the main castle of the Norton Family fell, the other side would have no choice but to surrender meekly. There would be no need to commit any forces to attack it at all.
Whether it was a thousand or seven hundred soldiers guarding Northfield Town, a few hundred mercenaries would absolutely never dare to attack the town.
Knight Hennerd was lodging in the most lavish and opulent mansion in Northfield Town—reportedly, it had been the residence of some old patriarch of the Morlin family. What a joke. Commoners aping noble families by styling themselves as great houses, without even considering whether they had the right to do so. After slaughtering everyone inside, Knight Hennerd had unhesitatingly claimed the mansion for himself. He had no need for the servants who had previously attended the place. As a Gold Knight, he was entitled to bring his own retinue of attendants and servants to the field. In addition to these, he had also selected four stunning beauties from among the young women.
The eldest of the four beauties was a maid that the former Garrison Captain had spent a fortune purchasing from outside. The other three were granddaughters-in-law from the four great families. With these four lovelies by his side, Hennerd had been living in debauchery in Northfield Town, thoroughly enjoying himself beyond measure. Tonight, he had once again drunk himself into a stupor and ended up rolling in the sheets with all four bare-skinned beauties.
The knocking grew louder and more urgent, and the shouting intensified: "My lord! My lord! Wake up quickly..."
Knight Hennerd finally came to his senses. Pressed around him were the four beauties, jolted awake by the knocking and shivering with fear. He casually groped a few handfuls of their bare skin, then cursed in extreme annoyance: "What is it? What's all this screaming about? What happened?"
The knocking finally stopped. "My lord, enemy—enemy attack! The enemy has broken into the city..."
"What did you say?" Knight Hennerd, still groggy from his hangover, instantly sobered up. He shoved aside the four beauties clinging to him, threw himself out of bed, and strode over to open the door without bothering to cover his naked body. "You're saying the enemy is already inside the city?"
…
This was where the last pocket of enemies was holed up. Looking at the grand mansion before him, Lorist knew this was the place where the old Morlin patriarch had resided. Steward Codan had introduced it to him once. Back then, he had even considered infiltrating Northfield Town for a decapitation strike. Only a few months had passed, yet everything had changed beyond recognition. Presumably, the old Morlin patriarch had never imagined his family would meet with such a wretched retribution...
The doors of the mansion swung open, and an armored knight strode out at the head of a group. The longsword in that knight's hand blazed with golden sword-light, while behind him, the longswords of several Silver Knights shimmered with white sword-light...
"I am Knight Hennerd! Who will face me in battle?"
Lorist dismounted, drew the longsword from his back, and walked forward.
"My lord..." It was Washima's voice. He didn't know about Lorist's previous battle exploits and was deeply worried — the man across from them was a Gold Knight.
"Relax. The lord could slaughter him like a chicken." Reddy grabbed Washima, who had been about to volunteer to take Lorist's place in the fight.
"He's the young lord, the new head of the Norton Family." A Silver Knight who had previously visited Maplewood Manor as an envoy and seen Lorist before spoke up to Knight Hennerd.
"Hmm..." Knight Hennerd's spirits soared. If he could capture this new head of the Norton Family, there might still be a chance to turn things around. Looking at the armed Norton Family soldiers closing in from all sides, this was probably his only path to survival...
"Die!" Knight Hennerd struck preemptively, flicking three crescent-shaped blades of light at Lorist before charging in himself.
With a flick, a sweep, and a parry of his longsword, Lorist shattered all three blades of light. As for the charging Knight Hennerd, in Lorist's eyes the man was riddled with openings — stumbling, lurching, clearly drunk. His mind might have been sober enough, but he couldn't control his own center of gravity. It would be an inglorious victory to best such a drunkard.
Lorist lightly dodged Knight Hennerd's slash and drove his knee into the man's abdomen...
"Ugh—" Knight Hennerd immediately retched, falling to his knees and vomiting until he couldn't catch his breath. His sword clattered to the ground, and his entire body convulsed like a giant shrimp.
"Tie them up," Lorist said, his gaze sweeping to the men who had followed Knight Hennerd out.
With a metallic clatter, the Silver Knight who had seen Lorist before dropped his longsword to the ground and said bitterly, "I surrender..."
...