Dawn slowly broke. A few lingering stars studded the pale blue sky, and the land lay hazy, as though draped in a thin veil of silver-gray.
Dawn cleaved the silent curtain of night like a sharp sword, ushering in the first sunlight.
Darrowshire, in the Eastern Plaguelands. Time passed slowly, and the city swiftly settled down after the chaos. The sun stretched across the sky; by now, it was noon.
Bright sunlight shone into the city. The streets were deserted, with no one moving about.
After a long while, the steady tramp of footsteps echoed through the empty streets.
A squad of fully armed soldiers patrolled with weapons in hand, keeping a vigilant watch.
In front of the City Lord's Mansion, however, troops massed in force. It was nothing like the quiet elsewhere in the city. Clad in armor, Ulysses stood at the front, surveying the mansion before him.
His gaze grew grave. The City Lord's Mansion before him was a castle.
It measured three hundred meters on each side, with a lookout tower in its southwestern corner and enclosed arrow towers at twenty-meter intervals. Every building inside the castle had a roof of stone slabs, and the walls themselves were broad and sturdy, more than three meters thick.
It combined an inner keep with additional arrow towers. A moat had been dug at the foot of the walls, surrounding the entire castle, and its gate was an exceptionally sturdy portcullis.
"What a turtle shell," Ulysses sighed at last.
The castle before him was easy to defend and difficult to attack. With enough food and soldiers, it could hold out for a year or two without any trouble.
"What is the garrison inside the City Lord's Mansion like?" Ulysses's gaze flickered as he considered a frontal assault, but he had