Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 642 - 641: The Situation

That evening, the Cecil Legion’s ground forces established a second artillery position on the plains south of St. Soniel, initially completing the fire coverage over the royal capital’s frontal defense line.

The battle was not yet over, as a large number of Crystal Cluster Giants remained active in the southern and eastern regions. Driven by their instinct for destruction, these monsters would continuously launch attacks on areas dense with magical and life reactions—on this point, these creations of divine evils bore similarities to those thoroughly mutated aberrations in the Gondor wasteland—but one thing was certain, the crisis of St. Soniel had been temporarily lifted.

In the ensuing twenty hours, Gawain refrained from blindly expanding the ground forces’ position. Instead, he continued to reduce the number of Crystal Cluster Legions in the southern open areas of the royal capital while calling for armored cargo ships on the Gorgon River to dispatch a team of engineers onto the battlefield.

Under the cover of superior firepower and with the aid of numerous engineering ancient magical devices, the engineer teams worked overnight to set up the first batch of interception nets and temporary fortifications in the southern part of the battlefield. Before noon on the seventh day, the Magic Combat Corps, carrying personal Burners, were dispatched to these fortifications in seven-member squads, while key positions were garrisoned by White Knights carrying Heavy Incinerators.

This defensive line was intended to intercept the Crystal Cluster Giants spreading from the Plains of the Holy Spirits. The cross-deployed Flame-throwing Bunkers and barbed wire, along with interception stakes, were the most potent weapons against those monstrous charges—and before this battle concluded, the engineer teams would continue their work, with interception fortifications and firepower bunkers covering the plains until the transported fleet’s supplies were more than halfway consumed. Following this, the ground forces would adopt a conservative strategy, awaiting the northward convergence with Sir Philip’s main forces.

On the towering city walls of St. Soniel, knights and warriors who finally had a chance to catch their breath leaned against the parapets to rest, as the crisis of the collapsing defense line had been temporarily averted. Yet, it was far from time to relax, as a significant number of Crystal Cluster Monsters still roamed outside the city walls. Until those monsters were fully eliminated, nobody dared to leave the defenses.

A gryphon bearing the royal emblem with blue and gold trimmings soared into the sky, leaving St. Soniel and flying southward under the watchful eyes of the officers and soldiers.

Countless gazes from the city walls watched the brave Gryphon Knight challenging the skies. Some warriors who were resting against the walls instinctively stood up, watching the raptor fly over the western wall barriers, over the ruins of Mill Town and Raven Plateau in the south of the royal capital. One or two Arcane Arcs shot from the ground into the sky, slicing through the air and landing far behind the Gryphon Knight—ultimately, the gryphon safely flew over the battlefield.

Wales watched the gryphon depart and breathed a gentle sigh.

Since the royal capital had been besieged, this was the first Gryphon Knight to successfully fly out on a reconnaissance mission—before this, dozens of well-trained Gryphon Knights had perished in the dense Arcane Arcs, mostly getting shot down just as they left the great barrier. Although the number of Crystal Cluster Monsters had sharply decreased, it undoubtedly took tremendous courage for that knight to fly over the city walls.

May he return safely.

...

In the camp established by the Cecil Legion’s ground forces south of the royal capital, Gawain gazed distantly at the high walls of the royal capital now within sight.

Beyond the camp, in the direction of two artillery highlands, the continuous whistling sounds persisted, and the blasts of shells hitting the ground echoed from even farther afield, seemingly never ceasing.

A faint chill emanated from behind, prompting Gawain to turn and see Victoria approaching.

This duchess had arrived at the front with the second landing force, but she and her Mountain Corps actually had little use on the ”Cecil Style” frontline. Therefore, her main role here was as an advisor—although Gawain had satellite maps for assistance, the resolution and detail analysis ability of the satellite perspective were ultimately limited, and he himself knew almost nothing about the detailed situation around the royal capital. Victoria’s presence could alleviate this issue—the location of the second artillery highland was actually chosen based on the intelligence provided by this duchess.

”The enemy main forces on the frontal battlefield no longer pose a threat,” Gawain nodded to this Northern Guard, speaking calmly, ”Our next target is to seal the southern and eastern passages, blocking the monsters’ reinforcements.”

Victoria, whose expression had long seemed frozen, could not help but show signs of relaxation at this moment. This typically stern and unsmiling duchess seemed to unburden herself in front of Gawain, exhaling a long breath with a faint smile appearing on her face: ”You have saved this kingdom.”

”But it’s still too early to say that,” Gawain remarked casually, ”The crisis is far from over.”

His words carried a dual meaning: firstly, that the Crystal Cluster Legions on the Plains of the Holy Spirits were far from being completely annihilated; secondly, that the Oblivion Association had created an earth-shattering crisis deep within the Plains of the Holy Spirits that could erupt at any time—Victoria naturally only understood the first meaning, gently nodding: ”As you say, we cannot relax...saving the royal capital is just the first step.”

”Saving the royal capital...” Gawain murmured, his gaze once again wandering northward toward the high walls of St. Soniel, ”It’s already so close.”

Victoria also followed Gawain’s gaze—her eyes swept over the gleaming rail cannons nearby, the battle-ready war chariots and corps, the Cecil flags billowing in the wind over the camp, and finally along the trajectory of all these elements, landing on the distant royal capital walls.

Amid the background of cannon fire from two highlands in the distance, an unexpected silence fell around Gawain.

St. Soniel had indeed been preserved, but as a royal capital, its function was already virtually defunct, whether it be its armed forces or its governing system.

And an extraordinarily powerful Cecil Legion was now stationed outside the city, their leader having just completed the monumental feat of saving the kingdoms.

At this moment, Victoria’s mind drifted back to the Fog Month internal strife a century ago that altered the fate of Anzu, recalling the day the head of the Wilder Clan from a century ago stood at the gates of the royal capital.

”Duke Cecil, you...”

Gawain cut Victoria off, preventing her from continuing: ”What do you think Wales is thinking right now?”

”...I can’t quite predict his moves anymore,” Victoria slightly shook her head, ”In hindsight, perhaps I never truly understood him from the beginning.”

...

The gryphon dispatched to the south has returned.

The Gryphon Knight witnessed an astounding scene, bringing back the latest intelligence. The knight exhausted his vocabulary to describe what he saw—thundering war chariots, flame-spewing soldiers, incomprehensible war machines, and their terrifying power.

Wales listened to the intelligence on the city walls, maintaining silence throughout.

The Cecil Legion effectively controlled the entire area; their strength could level this battlefield...

Perhaps it was time to face the most challenging decision of his life.

Wales left the city wall.

For the first time in seven days since the coronation, the King returned to the Silver Castle.

The noble assembly in the Golden Oak Hall convened once again.

The reinforcements had arrived, the crisis was averted. Although small groups of enemies still lingered outside the city, the shadow that had loomed over the city for days was gradually dispersing. Except the Cathedral of the Holy Light remained with its doors tightly shut, the Inner City District of the royal capital was almost enveloped in a relaxed and joyful atmosphere, and the aristocrats of the capital, as masters of the upper society, reacted quite noticeably to this atmosphere—

Many faces that were filled with fear just days ago were now beaming with smiles; many who had been contemplating fleeing with their entire families were now dressed in fine clothes, adorned with ribbons. These former fugitives, opportunists who changed their stance only at the King’s coronation, were now gathering joyfully in the Golden Oak Hall, happily discussing a bright future.

Now, they were all defenders of St. Soniel’s merit.

When Wales entered the Golden Oak Hall, this was the relaxed and pleasant scene he witnessed.

”Your Majesty, history will remember this day,” said a male aristocrat wearing a white hairpiece as he stood and bowed respectfully to the King, ”The truth has shown that great bloodlines will always shine.”

Wales did not respond, merely nodded lightly, and slowly walked toward his throne.

The aristocrat who spoke, just seven days ago, had packed all his valuables into a cart and even sent it to the western city gate, but he astutely noticed the changes within the Silver Castle, and hurriedly called back both the cart and the servants.

Several people sitting on the west side of the long table, indecisive fence-sitters, had been preparing to flee before the King’s coronation, yet pledged their allegiance at the first opportunity on the day of the coronation.

For hundreds of years, the aristocrats had lived so shrewdly, calculating gains and losses wisely, maintaining their interests shrewdly, choosing their sides smartly, and adjusting their alliances and investment directions keenly.

The kingdoms experienced upheavals, society rose and fell, even the royal bloodline was not exempt from catastrophic disasters like the Fog Month turmoil, yet only the shrewd aristocrats always accurately navigated the tumultuous world, except for a few who fell, most remained perpetual profiteers.

Just like today.

Wales sat down on the throne, the bloodstained armor made a cold, metallic clang.

Many eyes immediately focused on him.

”The Cecil Legion has established a position in the city south,” Wales said slowly, ”only a day away from the royal capital.”

Low murmurs arose in the hall, some people’s expressions turned serious, while others looked at Wales with complex gazes.

The aristocracy was decadent, but not foolish.

Almost everyone instantly realized the current situation’s risk—the risk to the royal family.

The royal capital was already in shambles, the royal family’s power virtually nonexistent, the pioneering knights suffered heavy casualties in the siege defense, and most of the southern fiefdoms had fallen.

Meanwhile, a powerful ducal legion now stationed outside the city.

The legion’s master was not aligned with the royal faction.

Once again, a Protectorate Duke turning the tide, once again a situation nearly akin to the ”Fog Month” rebellion.

One by one, those who had been whispering ceased their chatter. They began calculating the future power balance of the kingdoms and planning the ways and angles of their next ”investment,” while the King sitting on the throne appeared somewhat awkward in many people’s eyes.

Ordinary aristocrats could choose their positions in the game, but the King could not.

Wales observed everyone’s reactions but said nothing.

After all, these people were now defenders of St. Soniel’s merit.

But at least, as King, he still held the power to issue orders.

”Before the Cecil Duke enters the city, we need to ensure the security near the South City Wall,” Wales said unhurriedly after a moment of silence, ”Gentlemen, this concerns the dignity of many surnames in St. Soniel.”

No matter the situation, at least his words resonated with everyone present.

”We will organize forces to retake two outposts outside the South City Wall as a ’gift’ to welcome Duke Cecil,” Wales continued, ”One is Mill Town, the other further south is Raven Plateau.”

After a brief silence, many voices of agreement arose in the hall.

For these two areas were very close to the city wall, and the sentinels had long observed that there were essentially no enemies in these two regions.

They were the best tools for ”ensuring dignity.”