Rumble!
At the main gate of Stormwind Keep, Defias's cannons spewed fire, signaling the official start of the siege.
Shells were launched into the city, crashing into buildings throughout the fortress, sending stone chips flying and terrifying those inside.
Not long after Duke Vishak fled back to the fortress with his remaining troops, VanCleef's rebel army arrived there without hindrance.
Stormwind Keep is a city within a city, backed by a cliff and surrounded by water on three sides. It has only two entrances: the main gate and a small side gate on the west. With its high walls and strong fortifications, it is easy to defend and difficult to attack.
VanCleef split his forces into two groups and attacked both city gates simultaneously. As cannons fired from the main gate, loud battle cries erupted from the west gate.
The situation inside the fortress was far from optimistic. To cover up their defeat, the fleeing private soldiers exaggerated their claims, describing Defias as invincible, which caused considerable panic among the nobles.
If they hadn't been confined to the Council Hall, many of the nobles who had suppressed the stonemasons' uprising would probably have tried to escape by scaling the walls.
The Regent had to order the hanging of several private soldiers who had spread the rumors to temporarily quell the panic, but the noble private soldiers had lost their nerve and were no longer of any use, so the Royal Guards had to be relied upon.
With two thousand men guarding two city gates and additional troops stationed along the city walls to prevent the enemy from crossing the water and scaling them, Bolvar felt stretched thin. Only by figuring out the enemy's main attack direction could he defend effectively.
Therefore, he braved the artillery fire to personally climb the city wall and observe the enemy troops outside the two city gates. From this high vantage point, he could clearly see the enemy's troop distribution.
Upon closer inspection, he calmed down considerably. Apart from a dozen or so cannons and some rudimentary ladders and grappling hooks, the bandit army had no large siege equipment. It would be impossible to breach the fortress with just a sheer number of men, unless there was a tenfold or greater difference in troop strength. And Defias's forces were far from reaching 20,000.
So he divided his two thousand guards into three groups: nine hundred to guard the main gate where the enemy was attacking, six hundred to guard the west gate, and the remaining five hundred as a reserve force to deal with any situation, feeling that he was absolutely certain of success.
The first wave of battle unfolded almost exactly as he had anticipated. Defias launched a feint attack, leaving behind a dozen or so corpses at each of the two city gates before quickly retreating.
Meanwhile, their own side suffered only single-digit casualties, all of whom were unlucky enough to be hit by arrows thrown in.
The enemy was not as formidable as he had imagined, and Bolvar was even more confident, patiently waiting for Defias' second wave of attack.
A full quarter of an hour passed. Bolvar was puzzled. The attack intervals between sieges shouldn't be so long. The usual siege strategy is to wear down the defenders with continuous waves of attacks before seizing the opportunity to scale the walls and breach the city. VanCleef couldn't possibly be unaware of such basic military knowledge.
Just as they were wondering what was going on, a deafening roar suddenly came from the west, and they immediately felt a violent tremor under their feet, as if the entire fortress was shaking.
Earthquake?!
The guards, staggering and falling, scattered in terror, covering their heads and scrambling for cover. Bolvar had to shout, "Line up! It's not an earthquake!"
It wasn't an earthquake; the tremors quickly subsided and disappeared. But then a terrifying muffled thud sounded from the west—the sound of mountains collapsing and the earth splitting open.
Although he didn't know what had happened, Bolvar sensed something was wrong and immediately ordered, "All reserve troops, move out and follow me!"
He led his soldiers in a frantic westward march, and soon witnessed what had happened: amidst the rubble, a section of the city wall nearly thirty meters long had collapsed, revealing a huge gap through which a large number of enemies were pouring in!
This shocking scene left Bolvar numb, his blood boiling, and his mind unable to think. Instinct compelled him to issue the command, "Charge! Block the breach!"
Five hundred imperial guards followed their commander and charged fearlessly toward the breach, and the first close-quarters battle began.
As soon as the battle began, Bolvar realized that these enemies were all menacing and strong, not ordinary henchmen. The Royal Guards were completely blocked and could not advance an inch. Then he realized that if he were VanCleef, he would also have committed his most elite forces to this gap.
The Regent wielded his sword and steel shield with all his might, killing several people in succession, but the thought of defeat still kept creeping up uncontrollably, and he couldn't suppress it no matter what he did.
What to do?
The enemy is still increasing their numbers through the breach. We can't possibly repel them with just ourselves and the few men we have. What should we do?
This problem became a heavy mountain, pressing down on him and making it hard to breathe. In his heart, he already had an answer he didn't want to admit—without the support of the city walls, it was impossible for his side to win. The tide had turned, and the fortress could not be defended.
"Retreat!" Bolvar finally resigned himself to his fate. He didn't want to die. Dying here wasn't the worst thing; the worst thing was not being able to protect his most important responsibility.
Outside the breach in the city wall, squads of Defias bandits rushed across the makeshift pontoon bridge over the moat and continued their assault into the fortress.
After the Regent retreated, the west gate, which was closest to the breach, became the first target of attack. The Imperial Guards quickly became overwhelmed. With only 600 men, they lost the advantage of the city walls and were surrounded by the Defias bandits who suddenly entered the city. After losing more than half of their men, they had no choice but to surrender.
A red Skeleton flag was quickly raised atop the west gate, and the gates swung open. The bandits who had been feigning an attack outside filed in, following Defias's elite troops toward the main gate. The situation inside the fortress was rapidly collapsing.
With a loud bang, the doors of the Council Hall were violently pushed open. Bolvar, covered in blood, strode to the throne, scooped up the sleeping Little Prince from the chair, and turned to leave without looking back.
The nobles, awakened by the commotion, stared in disbelief at the scene. A perceptive young baron immediately sensed something ominous and chased after them to find out what was going on, only to discover that the Royal Guards on duty outside were leaving in formation.
A sudden sense of foreboding washed over the baron, and he shouted, "Where are you going?"
One of the captains turned around and said, "The Regent has ordered everyone to follow him."
"And what about us? Who will protect the adults in the hall?"
"I don't know." The captain frowned, then turned and walked away.
The baron's vision went black as he realized a cruel truth: the Regent had abandoned them, and something terrible must have happened.
The bad news quickly spread throughout the hall, and the nobles fled in panic. But they soon discovered that the fortress was swarming with Defias's bandit army, and both exits were blocked, leaving them nowhere to escape.
It was either fight to the death or surrender. The pampered life of the court nobles had turned most of them into spineless cowards. Apart from a few nobles who had suppressed the stonemasons' uprising and knew they were doomed to die, they fought desperately, but the others quickly laid down their weapons.
At dawn, the battle at the main gate ended, with Defias emerging victorious and the entire fortress falling into enemy hands.
"He really did it..."
Marshal Windsor VanCleef's trump card was to blow up the city walls, something no one had expected.
Can a butterfly's wings really stir up a storm?
Unas stared speechlessly at the bright red Skeleton flag rising atop the fortress—simply because he had rescued Marshal Windsor from Blackrock Depths a few months earlier than planned, history had been altered so dramatically. Whether this was for the better or for the worse, he had no way of knowing.
They were completely bystanders in this siege; everything happened like lightning. The fortress was breached too quickly, leaving them no time to react. But what puzzled the three was whether the Countess had also surrendered.
What do we do now?
No one could answer Sophia's question, and all three were somewhat confused. Fortunately, one of Defias's scouts brought news: VanCleef had invited the old marshal into the city.
"Let's go, let's see what kind of surprise he has in store for us."
The three followed the messenger into the fortress, but the expected burning, killing, and looting did not occur. Almost everyone—whether bandits or prisoners—was gathered in the fortress's Courtyard.
This place originally served as the king's parade ground, so it occupied a large area. However, the people on the Reviewing Stand were replaced by the leaders of Defias instead of the king and nobles.
These victorious bandits were able to suppress their desire to plunder and steal, and instead gathered here, presumably to announce something important.
Unas and Sophia were stopped below, while Marshal Windsor was invited to the Reviewing Stand. He was about to ask a question when VanCleef ignored him, raised his hand, and loudly ordered, "Bring them in!"
The thieves below the platform retreated hastily, making way for a large group of disheveled people who were driven and stumbled from the adjacent Barracks District to the foot of the Reviewing Stand.
Men, women, and children were all gagged, their hands were tied behind their backs, and they were forced to kneel on the ground. Windsor and Sophia saw many familiar faces among them—these were the city's nobles and their families, numbering three or four hundred.
An ominous cloud hung over the old marshal's heart. He couldn't help but shout, "Where are His Highness the Prince and the Regent? And the Countess? I don't see them. What do you intend to do by bringing these people up here?!"
"What do I want to do? Hah," VanCleef said mockingly, "Since you want to know, I'll tell you—I'm going to end the rule of the nobility!"
He was not only answering the marshal's questions, but also proclaiming his ideals to the entire audience:
"Brothers and sisters, remember the suffering you have endured! The nobles beneath your feet are the source of your misery!"
Under their rule, this country is rife with war, natural disasters, and man-made Scourge. Every day, countless people flock to me. Why?! Because, like you, they cannot survive under the oppression of the monarchy and the nobility! My mission is to lead you to end all of this. Today is just the beginning!
Unas was dumbfounded. Was this guy planning to start a French Revolution?
"For such words to come from the mouth of a villain like you is utterly shameless!" The old marshal couldn't contain himself and rebuked, "You are also a criminal who caused this disaster!"
"Criminals? No!" VanCleef's voice was like that of a god who ruled over order, "My cause is justice!"
He continued to urge the thieves, "Today, thanks to your valiant fight, the Judgment of justice has finally arrived. The blade of vengeance thirsts for blood; only a feast of slaughter can satisfy us, brothers!" A terrifying fanaticism gleamed in VanCleef's eyes. "The feast is about to begin!"
Kill! Kill! Kill!
The thieves, already ravenous and impatient, roared wildly. VanCleef waved his hand, facing the crowd of prisoner guards, "Brothers of the Guard, if you too have suffered oppression, if hatred resides in your hearts, if the blood still flows in your veins, then take up arms! This feast is yours to begin!"
With a clatter, a pile of blood-stained weapons was thrown in front of the prisoners. The Imperial Guards looked at each other, none daring to step forward.
Suddenly, a burly, short guard leaped out, grabbed a broadsword, and rushed to a kneeling middle-aged man. With a ferocious expression, he loudly accused, "Earl Aulbe, you beast! Today I will avenge my sister!" He slashed the middle-aged man's head with his blade, and blood splattered all over him.
Earl Aulbe rolled on the ground in agony. If his mouth hadn't been gagged, he would have desperately protested: You've mistaken me for someone else! I don't know you at all, and I didn't do anything to your sister!
The short man swiftly finished off the Earl with a final blow to the neck, eliminating the scapegoat. There was a reason for choosing this Earl: Earl Aulbe was a womanizer who had committed numerous atrocities, including bullying men and women, and was a universally hated figure in Stormwind City.
"Brothers of the Imperial Guard, what are you waiting for? Your chance for revenge is right in front of you!"
The Defias spy, who had infiltrated the Royal Guard, shoved the broadsword into the hands of another prisoner, shouting, "Brother Kutar, avenge your family!"
This Kutar was the real victim; his family had indeed committed suicide due to being pressured by a baron for debt. Inspired by this, he gripped his blood-stained weapon and rushed towards his enemy.
He passionately denounced the baron's crimes while hacking and slashing wildly until the baron was almost turned into mincemeat.
With these two as a precedent, the dozens of weapons on the ground were quickly picked up by the Imperial Guard prisoners. Only a few had real grudges against them—the noble lords were usually high and mighty, and some unintentional actions could humiliate these soldiers. But even trivial matters were quickly amplified into deep-seated hatred in the extreme atmosphere of the scene.
"What are you going to do? You have no grudge against the nobles." Someone pulled his comrade aside and whispered.
"Idiot, haven't you realized yet? If you don't kill someone now, you'll be the one getting killed later!"
"What's the meaning?"
"They won't even spare noble prisoners, why would they spare us? If we don't pledge our allegiance now, we'll all be dead soon."
"You're actually afraid of death? Have you forgotten all the honor and oath of our Royal Guards?"
"Don't give me that nonsense. Look at the stage, even Marshal Windsor has surrendered. What's the point of all that rubbish about honor?"
Teeth, daggers, swords, fingernails... the hypocritical avengers used any means at their disposal to vent their hatred, regardless of whether the target was already an immobile corpse.
Whether it was opportunism or genuine emotion, most of the more than a thousand captured Imperial Guards took action, although many only symbolically stabbed the corpses a couple of times.
The old marshal on the platform was held firmly down by several bandit leaders, and could only watch helplessly as this atrocity unfolded.
Unas pulled Sophia back forcefully to prevent the female Knight from taking any rash actions.
"Let me go, I won't act impulsively." The female Knight's face remained expressionless, but her clenched fists betrayed her turbulent emotions.
"What a madman," Unas whispered. "Some nobles are certainly hateful, but they can be used as hostages while alive, and are worthless once they're dead. Besides, there must be many innocent people among their families. VanCleef Cleef is seeking momentary pleasure, but he'll reap what he sows sooner or later."
The female Knight said, "Sometimes the line between a madman and a dreamer is very thin. VanCleef wasn't just acting on impulse; I saw the light in his eyes—he was serious."
Unas's eyes widened. "You haven't been brainwashed by him, have you? You seem to be a nobleman too?"
"Precisely because I am a nobleman, I have witnessed much of the ugliness among nobles," the female Knight said noncommittally. "Whether we agree with VanCleef's ideas or not, the Marshal and we are all already tied to his chariot."
The intention behind inviting the three of them to witness the massacre was indeed sinister. To outsiders, they were undoubtedly accomplices and naturally held responsible for the slaughter.
Unas shrugged nonchalantly. "I only care about one thing: where is the Countess?"
"That's the same question I was thinking of asking."