Chapter 195: Over the Next Few Weeks

Two weeks later, the combined army reached the second iron fortress blocking the southern highway. The valley narrowed significantly here, funneling the marching columns into a tight chokepoint.

The Kingdom Knights marched at the front of the formation this time. Aaron, the Sword of the Kingdom, rode his warhorse at the head of the cavalry. He drew his silver greatsword and pointed the blade toward the reinforced gates.

“We take this stronghold!” Aaron commanded, his voice echoing clearly through the canyon.

The local forces charged forward with renewed vigor. Spellcasters in the rear ranks chanted incantations, launching fireballs over the infantry to bombard the battlements while the Fourth Continent defenders returned fire with heavy ballista bolts to break the cavalry charge.

Iron-Scale watched the assault from a rocky vantage point alongside Gulag. He kept his hand resting comfortably on his hilt. The Vanguard soldiers stood back, allowing the local troops the space to reclaim their own territory.

A sudden volley of explosive arrows rained down toward a vulnerable flank of the advancing knights. Iron-Scale engaged his pneumatic spools and launched himself across the battlefield. He intercepted the projectiles mid-air, deflecting the payload with a rapid sequence of sword strikes before grappling seamlessly back to the ridge.

Down near the gates, a squad of enemy infantry rushed out to ambush the battering ram crew. Gulag leaped from the cliffside and crashed directly into the ambush party. She swung her heavy mace once, crushing the attackers instantly to clear the path, then stepped aside to let the knights continue their work.

Aaron swung his glowing greatsword to shatter the weakened gates. The local forces flooded into the courtyard, overwhelmed the defenders, and secured the fortress with brutal efficiency.

Silence eventually fell over the ruined stronghold. Aaron wiped his blade clean and approached the Vanguard commanders near the shattered entrance. He looked proudly at his exhausted but victorious soldiers cheering inside the walls.

“I must thank you,” Aaron said earnestly, offering a deep bow to Iron-Scale and Gulag. “Our ranks have suffered defeat after defeat for years. Watching your army shatter the first fortress ignited a fire in their hearts. Their morale and confidence have completely returned because of your presence.”

Iron-Scale nodded respectfully. “Your knights fought well today. Let them catch their breath. Once the third and the final stronghold is reclaimed, the western shipyards await us next.”

They spent three days there and left an army of five thousand local troops and three thousand Iron-Scale troops to defend it, just like they did with the first stronghold.

And the next day, they marched for the final fortress.

Three weeks of grueling travel brought the combined army to the end of the southern highway. The final stronghold blocked the horizon completely. This was the ancient divine capital of the Second Continent, abandoned by its former god and fully repurposed by the enemy into an impenetrable mountain fortress.

Aaron stared at the stolen architecture with deep bitterness. The Kingdom Knights marched confidently toward the walls during their initial assault, but the enemy unleashed absolute hell. High-tier mages stood atop the battlements and rained explosive artillery directly into the cavalry. Terrifying chimeras charged out from the courtyard to shred the frontline infantry with venomous claws.

The local soldiers simply lacked the preparation to handle such concentrated magical firepower. Iron-Scale immediately signaled a tactical withdrawal to preserve their numbers before the casualties multiplied.

A brutal week of grueling skirmishes followed the retreat. The allied army tested the outer defenses daily, but they always hit an unbreakable wall of spells and beast-fire. The siege pushed everyone to their absolute limits.

Iron-Scale gathered his commanders around a tactical table on the seventh night. Gulag leaned against the tent pole and wiped chimera blood from her mace. Aaron stood quietly with his arms crossed, clearly frustrated by the stalemate.

Elder Syra stepped up to the map. She had spent the last few days gathering information and noting everything down to come up with a perfect plan. She traced her claw over the four elevated spires guarding the fortress corners.

“The mages are the root of the problem,” Syra stated calmly. “They rely on these corner towers to amplify their destructive spells and project the barrier. We cannot break the gates while those casters breathe.”

“The walls are too highly guarded to climb,” Aaron countered. “Any approach triggers a barrage.”

“We do not climb,” Syra corrected. She tapped the pneumatic spools holstered at her waist. “We fly. Gulag will launch a noisy frontal assault at midnight to draw the chimeras and the spotlight to the main gates. My assassins will scale the blind spots on the western cliffs and drop directly into the spires from above. We sever the ley-lines and slaughter the mages. You breach the gates the second the barrier falls.”

Iron-Scale nodded in agreement. The plan perfectly utilized their specialized mobility.

The strategy commenced under the cover of darkness the following evening. Gulag marched directly into the open valley. She roared a terrifying challenge and slammed her heavy mace against the outermost barricades. The fortress immediately reacted to the threat. Searchlights swept over the dirt, and the heavy gates groaned open to release a pack of rabid chimeras. Gulag grinned and swung her weapon to meet the beasts head-on, completely occupying the ground forces.

High above the chaos, Elder Syra and her personal squad moved like phantoms. The Grey-Fins fired their wire-spools into the sheer cliff face overlooking the stronghold. They zipped through the air with terrifying speed to bypass the outer walls entirely.

Syra detached her grapple and crashed silently through the glass window of the primary mage tower. She drew her serrated daggers and executed the head caster before he could even turn around.

The remaining assassins cleared the other three spires within minutes. The magical barrier surrounding the fortress flickered and violently shattered into scattered sparks.

“The shield is down!” Aaron shouted from the ridge. He drew his silver greatsword and spurred his warhorse forward. “Push the advantage!”

Iron-Scale engaged his own spools and launched himself straight over the battlefield. He soared past Gulag and landed flawlessly atop the ruined gates. He channeled his draconic aura into his blade and carved a bloody path down into the courtyard to clear the chokepoint.

Aaron and the Kingdom Knights flooded through the opening a second later. The local cavalry crushed the remaining beasts and swept through the fortress to reclaim their stolen capital.

Elder Syra stood at the top of the tower and wiped her daggers clean. The most dangerous obstacle in the south had finally fallen.

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