Chapter 396

Raynan, the commander of Linderstein, stared in stunned disbelief at the colossal catapults lined up in the distance.

“What... What is that? What in the world is going on?”

The sudden appearance of those catapults was beyond anything he could have imagined.

“Is this... magic?”

It was said that mages of the 8th Circle or higher—known as grand mages—could use warp magic to transport objects and people. However, there wasn’t a single 8th Circle mage in this kingdom. Reaching such a level was considered an achievement that might happen once in a millennium for a human.

“What the hell is that thing?!”

Raynan shouted in frustration, but no one could provide an answer.

The enemy had been tinkering and building something, and then, as if out of nowhere, these enormous catapults appeared. Who could possibly explain how they had done it?

Of course, constructing catapults locally was theoretically possible. But such siege engines would typically be crude and unsuitable for an assault on a fortress of this magnitude.

The technology behind these catapults left everyone baffled.

“No, this can’t be real. It must be some kind of bluff. Look at how odd they look! Those stones—they probably aren’t even meant for throwing!”

Raynan muttered to himself, biting his lip nervously.

The catapults bore a skeletal, strange appearance, with spindly frames that looked more like a pile of connected bones than a solid weapon. Their size was immense, but such a fragile-looking structure couldn’t possibly deliver a powerful attack.

Turning to his unsettled soldiers, Raynan shouted, “Don’t worry! Look at those things! They’re clearly just for show! They can’t breach this fortress!”

Hearing this, the soldiers nodded hesitantly. They, too, doubted that the odd contraptions could launch heavy stones effectively.

However, Raynan, always cautious, added, “Still, be vigilant! They might try throwing diseased corpses or poison-coated objects instead! Be ready to clear anything they hurl at us!”

Using rotting corpses or poison to spread disease within a fortress was a timeworn strategy. Even if those bizarre catapults couldn’t launch massive stones, they might still throw smaller, dangerous projectiles.

Following his orders, the soldiers hastily organized themselves into teams, donning gloves and masks made of deer hide.

While the fortress soldiers scrambled, Ghislain Fenris watched the Galvanium Catapults with a smirk.

“Their first field test, huh? This should be fun.”

The power of these catapults had already been proven in Ghislain’s previous life. The enemy’s shock and terror were inevitable.

Just then, Dark, Ghislain’s shapeshifting raven, relayed a mental message.

— Master! The pursuers have reached the canyon we passed through.

“So they’ve reached the western outskirts,” Ghislain murmured. Despite their massive numbers, the enemy moved swiftly. Still, they wouldn’t achieve their objective.

Today, Linderstein would fall.

“There are enough stones,” Ghislain noted.

To break a fortress like this, a relentless and overwhelming barrage of heavy projectiles was required. Hundreds of knights and thousands of soldiers had gathered massive rocks using horses and nets. Some had even gone to nearby mountains to carve out boulders.

“Begin,” Ghislain commanded.

At his order, soldiers attached counterweights to the catapults. Knights, infused with mana, helped load the colossal stones onto the catapults to speed up the process. Four-circle mages strengthened the stones and counterweights with enchantments, making them heavier and more durable.

This was a well-rehearsed maneuver. The soldiers moved like a single, coordinated unit as they shouted:

“Catapult One, ready!”

“Catapult Two, ready!”

...

“Catapult Ten, ready!”

When all preparations were complete, Ghislain raised his hand.

“Fire.”

A knight standing nearby relayed the command with a booming voice.

“FIRE!”

A thunderous sound split the air as the massive stones were hurled toward the fortress. The soldiers of Linderstein froze in terror, watching in disbelief.

No tricks, no diseased corpses—just enormous stones flying through the air.

The sight of the projectiles tracing arcs toward them felt surreal, almost dreamlike.

But their nightmare began with a deafening crash.

BOOM!

“AAAAARGH!”

CRASH! CRASH! BOOM!

The fortress walls shattered, sending debris and soldiers flying. Those caught in the impact zone screamed as they were flung like ragdolls. Others were crushed under the massive stones, their bodies obliterated.

“It’s... It’s a real siege weapon!”

“Take cover! Everyone, scatter!”

The soldiers, who had been stationed along the outer walls to prevent Ghislain’s troops from scaling them, now found themselves unable to react in time. The boulders descended too quickly.

And before they could recover, another volley was already on its way.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

“AAAAAHHH!”

The relentless barrage left the soldiers no chance to escape. Many were crushed before they could move, their bodies reduced to grotesque heaps of flesh and bone. Sections of the walls crumbled, transforming into jagged ruins.

These catapults were nothing like the traditional ones. Their speed and power were on an entirely different level.

BOOM! BOOM!

The walls cracked and collapsed, while screams of agony echoed endlessly.

Each swing of his mana-infused spear echoed like thunder. The force was so overwhelming that even the ground bore scars from the weapon’s movements, leaving deep furrows where it passed.

“He’s a monster!”

“It’s Fenris! Fenris is here!”

“Run! We can’t win against him!”

The soldiers instantly recognized Ghislain Fenris—his glowing red eyes and towering form astride a massive black horse were infamous throughout the kingdom.

With the walls breached and their morale long shattered, Rodrick’s forces were unable to respond effectively.

And then the knights of Fenris followed through the breach.

CRASH!

They plowed into the enemy lines, grinding Rodrick’s soldiers into dust.

“AAAAAGH!”

Rodrick’s troops were ill-prepared for such an assault. They had been gathered solely to defend the fortress, with no cavalry or proper heavy infantry among their ranks.

Stopping the knights’ charge was an impossible task.

Watching his soldiers crumble so easily, Raynan roared in frustration.

“Fight! Fight, damn you! We outnumber them!”

But his cries fell on deaf ears. The arrival of Fenris’s cavalry was the final nail in the coffin. Rodrick’s forces collapsed like a sandcastle struck by a wave.

“AAAAAGH!”

“Spare us!”

“Run for your lives!”

With their fortress breached, their spirit broke. The soldiers, abandoning any semblance of resistance, threw down their weapons and fled.

The retreat quickly turned into a slaughter. Without mounts, the fleeing soldiers were hunted down and cut down mercilessly by Fenris’s cavalry.

Tears of blood streaming from his eyes, Raynan retreated with his knights.

The fortress, the pride and heart of Rodrick’s forces, had been lost—and they hadn’t even put up a proper fight.

“It’s those damn catapults!”

If he had known about Fenris’s advanced siege weapons, he might have prepared differently. This defeat, this humiliation, could have been avoided.

“I’ll make them pay! I’ll report this to the Marquis and—”

His rant was cut short as a red-haired man appeared beside him.

“There you are! You’re the commander, right?”

“Wh-what are you?!”

“I’m Kaor, stronger than Gillian. Don’t forget that, even in the afterlife.”

Kaor, eager to make a name for himself, had seized this opportunity. Gillian, the famed White Lion, had stayed behind to defend Fenris’s territory, but Kaor was determined to surpass him.

Unfortunately, Raynan didn’t quite catch Kaor’s words.

“Gillian? The White Lion?”

“KAOR!” he snapped, his frustration boiling over.

Raynan had heard of Gillian’s reputation in the kingdom, but Kaor was an unfamiliar name.

Before Raynan could respond, Kaor’s sword struck.

SLASH!

“Urgh...!”

Raynan’s head fell to the ground, severed cleanly by Kaor’s blade. To his dying breath, he never understood why Kaor had been so angry.

“I’m stronger, you idiot,” Kaor muttered, glaring at the fallen commander.

With Raynan dead, Rodrick’s soldiers had no fight left in them.

Throwing down their weapons, they fell to their knees, shouting:

“We surrender!”

“Please spare us!”

“We’ll follow Fenris!”

Realizing they couldn’t outrun Fenris’s cavalry, the soldiers surrendered en masse, hoping for mercy.

As the last of the resistance crumbled, Fenris’s knights and soldiers raised their weapons high and roared.

“We’ve won!”

“The fortress is ours!”

“WAAAAAH!”

Their cheers echoed through the battlefield. To capture one of the kingdom’s most famed fortresses in a single day was an unprecedented triumph.

Though they had known the catapults were powerful, this was their first time using them in battle. Even Ghislain Fenris couldn’t help but smile as he praised his soldiers.

But the battle wasn’t over yet. There was still work to be done.

“Prepare for the pursuit force,” Ghislain ordered. “We need to be ready.”

At his words, the soldiers immediately sobered. Their confidence didn’t waver, but they quickly fell into disciplined action, reorganizing and preparing for the next battle.

Looking at his well-trained troops with satisfaction, Ghislain issued another command.

“Dismantle the catapults and reconfigure them into medium-sized models. Deploy them along the walls. Let’s give the next wave of enemies a proper welcome.”

The soldiers hurried to carry out his orders, leaving no time to rest or revel in their victory.