Feroy’s urgent and hasty steps carried him through the streets, crunching against the cobblestones sharp in the tense silence of the night. His breath came in measured bursts as he pushed himself forward.

Three guards flanked him, their eyes darting from shadow to shadow as they moved through the deserted streets. The news of the attack on the walls had spread like a wildfire, and the fear in the atmosphere could be felt by everyone.

The entire city had gone into curfew. Not a soul dared step out into the streets. Doors were slammed shut, windows sealed tight, and the quiet was broken only by the movements of the guards.

The city felt suffocating, as if everyone was expecting something terrible to happen. The destruction of the mana cannons on the wall had only made things worse. Feroy could feel it, the incoming doom.

As he neared the outer walls, the scene unfolded before him in grim detail.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself as he saw a portion of the wall that had crumbled. Blood stained the grounds, mixing with the pieces of the destroyed cannons.

Feroy’s heart clenched as he took in the scene. His pace quickened, and the guards following him did the same, their swords drawn, ready for whatever lay ahead. As he approached the area, he saw a group of guards standing around a bleeding man, tending to his wounds.

Feroy didn’t pause for long. His gaze, however, lingered briefly on the body covered by a cloth beside the wounded man.

He didn’t let himself dwell on the body for long. There was no time for that. His focus shifted back to the guard who was still alive. He racked his brain trying to recall his name when it finally clicked and he knelt beside him. “Can you talk, Drennan?”

The man’s eyes fluttered open, and he nodded weakly, his voice strained. “Yes, Knight Feroy… I can talk…” He tried to lift himself, wincing in pain, but Feroy placed a hand on his shoulder, gently but firmly urging him to stay down.

“No, don’t try to move,” Feroy commanded. “You’re wounded, but we need to know what happened.”

Drennan took a sharp breath, grimacing as he lay back, his face pale but his lips tightened as he spoke.

“I was on the wall, doing my usual patrol, when I saw something,” the guard began, his voice shaking. “A creature… dark, almost… like it was made of shadows and blood. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was fast. Before I could shout a warning, it… it killed Torric. Just like that. One strike and he lay bloodied. Then it attacked again. I thought it wanted to kill me, so I dodged, but the attack moved past me to hit the mana cannons. They didn’t stand a chance. I tried to reach for my horn, to signal for help, but by the time I did, the creature had already run off. It was too late, Knight Feroy.’

Feroy placed his hand on the Drennan’s shoulder, trying to ease some pain, but the man’s expression didn’t change. He sighed while his brain processed everything he had been told, particularly the part about the creature.

“Blood drinker…”

Drennan nodded slowly, his eyes clouded with guilt. “Yes, Knight Feroy, it was dark, but… the description fits the information we were given. I couldn’t do anything.” His voice broke as he glanced down at his falled partner. “I’m sorry… I failed.”

Feroy squeezed the man’s shoulder. “You don’t need to apologize. No ordinary guard would have survived such an assault. You did. And that speaks to your skill. As for your partner… I will make sure his sacrifice isn’t in vain.” Feroy’s eyes hardened as he gazed at the covered body. “I’ll make sure we honor his memory. “

As Feroy spoke, a distant sound caught his attention. The rhythmic clatter of wheels against stone echoed in the quiet night, growing louder as it approached. The guards around him stiffened, their hands instinctively reaching for their weapons.

Feroy turned toward the sound, his eyes narrowing as a carriage rolled to a stop at the base of the wall. The door opened, and out stepped a familiar face, Zorgar.

“I heard about it,” Zorgar said, his voice cutting through the silence. “The mana cannons were destroyed.” He glanced over at the ruined wall and the bloodied ground.

Feroy nodded sharply. “Not just that,” he said, his tone clipped. “The walls were breached. We have to prepare for worse.”

Zorgar nodded. “We’ll have Earth Mages here soon to help with the repairs. Lord Arzan sent a few yesterday, and they’re raring to do something. I’ve already informed the Enforcers and Mages to be on guard. Our enemies should be on our doorstep any minute.”

At the mention of enemies, Drennan looked up, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Enemies?”

Feroy’s gaze hardened. “Yes. Our scouts reported that Baron Idrin’s army is moving to capture Verdis. They’ve likely been planning this for some time. We need to get the city’s defenses ready. This is only the beginning.”

“From what we know, Baron Idrin has mustered around a thousand men to storm the castle. A dozen Mages, aided by these blood drinkers—those damnable creatures—will be leading the charge,” Zorgar said and huffed.

Feroy’s gaze remained focused, his mind calculating the next steps. But as Zorgar finished speaking, Drennan turned to them with a look of deep regret.

“I’m so sorry about the mana cannons,” Drennan said and shook his head regretfully. “I was on the wall. I should’ve made sure they were safe. Because of me, we’re going to lose more men trying to defend. We were counting on them, and now—”

Feroy cut him off with a raised hand. “You don’t need to apologize. It wasn’t your fault. You did your duty, and that’s all anyone could ask for.”

But Drennan’s gaze flickered between Feroy and Zorgar, confusion flickering in his eyes. The two men stood together, seemingly at ease, even as the enemy loomed at the city’s gates.

“But… the mana cannons… they were destroyed, and we have the enemy at the gates. More men are going to die to save the city, Knight Feroy. How can you both be so calm?”

Feroy smiled faintly, his eyes narrowing in a focused, determined look. “We anticipated this,” he said simply. “Well, I should say, Lord Arzan did. He’s always several steps ahead. It was only natural for the enemy to target the mana cannons. Everyone knows about them, and with the blood drinkers in their ranks, it was clear they’d try to take them out first—especially considering their ability to fly and attack under the cover of darkness.”

Drennan’s eyes widened in realization. “So… what does that mean?”

Before Feroy could answer, Zorgar stepped forward, his tone matter-of-fact. “It means we were ready. Two days ago, in the dead of night, we replaced the mana cannons with decoys. The ones that were destroyed? They were nothing but worthless fakes.”

Drennan blinked, his breath catching. “What…? But they were—”

“On the wall as cover. You can’t do anything with them. The only reason they exploded was because they had explosive potions inside of them,” Feroy finished. “And now, the enemy has no idea. They think they’ve crippled us, but in reality, they’ve played right into our hands. It’s only a matter of time before they realize their mistake.”

Drennan’s shoulders sagged in relief. He let out a long breath, finally being able to release the tension he’d been holding in since he’d first realised the destruction that had happened.

But before the relief could fully settle in, a sharp cry cut through the air, coming from one of the guards stationed on the walls above. “I see an army on the horizon. They’re on the move!”

Feroy’s eyes sharpened, and he turned toward the direction of the call. He exchanged a brief glance with Zorgar, who nodded in agreement. The time for hesitation had passed. The city was ready, and now it was up to them to teach their would-be invaders a lesson they would never forget.

“Prepare the men. We’re not just defending Verdis—we’re going to make sure they understand why they shouldn’t have come here in the first place.”

With that, Feroy began to stride toward the gathering forces. Baron Idrin had no idea what awaited him.

***

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Baron Idrin stood in the shadow of his forces, his eyes locked on the faint silhouette of Verdis in the distance. A thin, wraith-like outline against the darkening sky. The city, once a thorn in his side, was now ripe for the taking. He had fought tooth and nail for control over one of its villages, desperate to claim its mines. But now, the stakes were higher, and victory would mean so much more.

Duke Kellius had promised him this, and assured him that Verdis would fall into his hands once Count Arzan was crushed under their combined power. Now, he could almost taste the triumph in the air as his plans came to fruition.

Sacrificing that small village had been a necessary cost, one he had been more than willing to make. The reward would be the entire city—its resources, its strategic value, and most importantly, its people.

He smiled darkly at the thought of Arzan’s downfall. The city’s new Count wouldn’t stand a chance. The Duke had been right to trust in his abilities. Verdis would be his, and all of its secrets and riches would belong to him.

His grin faltered slightly when a silhouette swooped down from the sky and landed beside him. The sudden motion in the stillness of the night sent a brief shiver down his spine, and for a split second, he nearly recoiled. But he quickly regained his composure, eyes narrowing in irritation as he turned to face the figure next to him.

“I told you,” Baron Idrin growled. “Stop coming up on me like that. You’re worse than a ghost.”

The blood drinker standing next to him, ignored his irritation and spoke in a voice that carried both calm and menace. “The preparations are complete. The mana cannons have been destroyed. I was seen by a guard who barely avoided my attack, so they should be on alert now.”

Baron Idrin’s lips curled into a smug sneer. “I’m sure they must have gathered their forces already by now. But it doesn’t matter,” he muttered dismissively, waving a hand in the air. “Without their precious mana cannons, they won’t be able to contest us. They have no strong Mages, and even if they did, we have the numbers and strength. This will be an easy victory.”

He looked back to where his forces stood, a carefully orchestrated formation of soldiers, mercenaries, and Mages. Their faces were steely with resolve, their weapons at the ready. Idrin’s eyes swept across the ranks, noting the hardened expressions of the men who followed him—the loyal soldiers eager for bloodshed and plunder, and the mercenaries who would do anything for the right price.

And then there were the Mages sent by the famed Archine Tower. Mages whose power would give him a terrifying edge in this battle. But what really caught his eye were the blood drinkers standing at the front of the formation. There were two other than the one right besides him.

The creatures were like living weapons, their mastery of the blood manipulation unparalleled. They were each as powerful as peak second-circle Mages, and they answered only to him.

Idrin’s chest swelled with pride as he surveyed his forces. With his soldiers, Mages, and the blood drinkers under his command, he was unbeatable. There was no way they could lose now.

Baron Idrin took one last sweeping glance across his assembled forces, his eyes gleaming with the fire of ambition. The hour of conquest was upon them, and he could feel the thrill of victory swelling within him.

With his hand raised, he shouted into the crisp night air.

“Listen well, all of you! Tonight, we charge forward with all the fury we’ve known, all the strength we’ve built, and all the vengeance we’ve held back for too long. Tonight, we seize Verdis, and we take it by the throat! No hesitation, no mercy! We will show Count Arzan and all who dare stand with him that his rule ends now!”

The soldiers around him straightened, their grips on their weapons tightening until knuckles turned white. Their eyes gleamed with a shared hunger—a thirst for victory that burned just as fiercely as the fire raging in his chest. He let their energy fuel him, spreading like wildfire through the crowd.

“By sunrise,” he continued, his voice rising like the first strike of a war drum, “Verdis will belong to us! And when it does, we will stand ready for Duke Kellius to drag that bastard Arzan to the guillotine. His name will be forgotten, erased like the coward he is, and his city will kneel to us! The people of Verdis will finally see the truth—that justice has come, that their torment ends here, tonight! The rule of tyranny falls, and it falls by our hands!”

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in, watching the soldiers nod in fierce agreement. “Are you ready to fight, to take what is ours?”

“YES!” The chorus of their voices shook the air, and he could see the fire in their eyes, the unrelenting hunger for the coming battle. They were ready. They were united.

Baron Idrin grinned, his heart pounding with the excitement of impending victory. He swung himself onto his horse, his eyes locking on the distant city that would soon be his. “Then let’s take Verdis!” he shouted, his command a spark that set the forces into motion.

The charge began.

Idrin urged his horse forward, propelling himself into the beat. The loud sound of hooves echoed in his ears as his army followed suit, the ground beneath them trembling. The distant silhouette of Verdis grew larger with every stride, its walls looking like an obstacle before him. The anticipation clawed at his chest.

As they closed the distance, his thoughts raced. He could already picture it—Arzan’s lifeless body at his feet, the city’s defenses shattered, his name etched in history as the one who brought down the tyrant. His seat as Count would be secure, granted by Duke Kellius, and with it, all the power he’d ever dreamed of. No longer would he be a mere Baron, far from the capital, struggling to make his mark. He would be one of the rulers, standing at the very heart of the kingdom.

The air around him thickened with the promise of triumph.

But more than the power, more than the title, what drove him was the legacy. He would become the image of justice—someone who’d destroyed a tyrant and given the people what they needed. The people would praise him, they would see him as their savior.

In truth, Baron Idrin didn’t care what Arzan had done for the people of Verdis. He didn’t care about the truth of the man’s leadership. What mattered was the perception of him. The city would fall, Arzan would fall, and in the ashes, he would rise.

Without the mana cannons, there was no way Arzan could defend his city. Even if the man had some clever tricks up his sleeve, it didn’t matter now. Baron Idrin had planned for everything, and he would take Verdis without breaking a sweat.

Soon enough, the forces slowed, their charge coming to a halt just outside the city gates. Baron Idrin looked up to the towering walls of Verdis, his gaze scanning the figures standing atop. A few of them looked back down at him, and his eyes narrowed.

There, standing at the forefront, was the one man he needed to kill first—Knight Feroy. He had gathered all the intel on Feroy’s movements, his rank, his influence. If they took him down, the rest of the city would crumble. Feroy’s head would be the key that unlocked the gates to Verdis’ surrender.

Idrin’s heart thrummed in his ears. This was the moment everything would change. With Feroy dead, the city would be theirs. And with it, the world would know that Baron Idrin was a force to be reckoned with.

He raised his hand, signaling one of his Mages, and with a flick of the wrist, the Mage muttered an incantation. The air shimmered as the voice modification spell took effect, amplifying Idrin’s voice to carry far and wide.

He called out, his voice booming over the silent expanse, filled with a mix of menace and false compassion. “People of Verdis!” he shouted, his eyes gleaming with cruel anticipation. “I, Baron Idrin, am here to take the just revenge for the slaughter of my village, carried out by Count Arzan’s forces. I am sure by now, you all know the truth. The men guarding this city are responsible for the deaths of countless innocent lives.”

He paused for a moment, savoring the weight of his words, watching as the shadows on the walls shifted. “But you still have a chance! If you open the gates and surrender now, I will spare you. I will not only spare you, but I will reward you for your compliance. Your survival is within your grasp.”

The baron’s gaze hardened as he turned to face Knight Feroy’s silhouette on the wall. “And as for you, Knight Feroy,” he sneered, “I advise you to surrender. There’s nothing you can do. Your forces are pitiful compared to mine. You can try to fight, but I’ll make your death quick. It’s your choice.”

His words echoed in the still night, the silence that followed stretching longer than he anticipated. He narrowed his eyes, waiting for a sign, a response—anything. But there was nothing. No movement from the city below, no response from the soldiers atop the walls. His patience thinned as he glanced toward his forces, a frown pulling at his lips.

“Well then,” he muttered to himself, irritation creeping into his voice. “It seems Verdis isn’t looking for the easy way out.” His eyes glinted with dark amusement, the thrill of battle rising within him. “Very well! We take it by force.”

With a final wave of his hand, he gave the order. “Charge!”

His forces surged forward, the clang of weapons and the sound of boots pounding the earth filled the air as they moved towards the city gates. Ropes and ladders were hauled up, soldiers scaling the walls. The siege had begun. Baron Idrin grunted, a twisted sense of satisfaction settling in his chest as he watched the chaos unfold.

But then, something caught his eye.

A movement atop the walls—something that didn’t quite fit. At first, it was just a flicker, a figure moving quickly, but then he saw it clearly. It wasn’t an archer or a soldier. No, this was something much more unusual. A man, standing at the far edge of the wall, began fitting a large mechanical device into place. Idrin’s heart skipped a beat, a chill running down his spine.

It can’t be…

His mind raced as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing, but the realization hit him like a slap right across his face. Mana cannon. His eyes widened. They couldn’t have rebuilt it so quickly, could they? They couldn’t!

Before he could process the thought, the device was locked into place. The figure operating it adjusted a few levers, and Idrin’s stomach dropped as he understood what was about to happen.

“NO!” he shouted, his voice a mixture of disbelief and rage, but it was already too late.

The beam of deadly light shot out from the device.

For a brief moment, the world was blinded—his soldiers, his mercenaries, and even himself—all of them lost in the blinding light. He could hear the screams and the chaos as the beam tore through his ranks, the loud boom with the cries of dying men. His forces were caught in the blast, the shockwave scattering them like insects underfoot.

“What the fuck?!” he screamed on top of his lungs.

***

A/N – You can read 30 chapters (15 Magus Reborn and 15 Dao of money) on my patreon. Annual subscription is now on too.

Note – Magus Reborn Volume 1 is now on pre orders on Amazon with publishing by Aethon books. It will be stubbed for Volume 1 on April 22. I would be very happy if a few of you would be interested enough in checking it out on Amazon.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep