Dungeon of Pride, Laplace

Chapter 831- Battle For The Capital (3)

They had been on a losing end since the start of the war. The only reason he and Duke Montford were able to last this long was because the enemy had been unserious in their previous attempts.

That's how they were barely able to stand their ground against the enemy this long. And even then, they had to sacrifice a hell of a lot just to maintain the standstill. A result like that was nothing to be proud of.

"I see, don't worry. Everything will be solved once we defeat the forces of Blackthorn and take the capital back".

Duke Redcrest who had been drooping his head from shame, suddenly raised it at that declaration from Cytnhia. She did not say 'if they were defeated' but 'once they were defeated'.

 Duek Redcrest could not sense any hesitation or uncertainty in those words of hers. Every word that she spoke, carried absolute confidence.

Looking at her overflowing with boldness and positivity, he couldn't help but wonder where she was getting her confidence from. Indeed the army that she brought with her, was impressive and compared to his own, they were at a higher level.

 Duke Redcrest was not devaluing his army or the ones brought by the other nobles. In fact, that was his honest opinion. What was abnormal was the strength of the army that Cynthai raised.

 Typically, the standards of the soldiers were around the level that he brought with him. Veterans and Elites were far and few between. In no case was it like the army of the princess where he could see many veterans, elites and powerhouses to the point where he couldn't even count all of them.

 In fact, he felt like the number of strong individuals in her army would even match up to the whole of the kingdom's guild alone. However, the enemy that they were fighting was no ordinary opponent either.

To be able to conquer all the other regions of Ellesmere with an unstoppable momentum, the enemy was sure to possess forces equal to or more power than Her Highness. No matter how he thought, he believed that defeating Blackthorn at this point would be an uphill battle and they would need numerous miracles to work on their side just to stand a chance.

It was for this reason that Cynthia's words and confidence confused him. The latter could also see the doubt in his eyes; nevertheless, she did not explain and simply kept her mouth shut on this matter.

After Cynthia and Duke Redcrest finished discussing a few important matters, their two armies started marching again. The sight of such a grand and large army naturally drew attention from everyone and given the enemy's network and modus operandi, everyone in the army believed that they would be attacked soon or at least some kind of trap would be laid for them.

However, to their surprise, the journey to the capital was an uneventful one with nothing of particular sort happening.

.

.

And so after ten days of march, the army of Ellesmere stood before the gates of their capital and stared at their enemy. At the forefront, stood Cynthia as she gazed at her homeplace. Scorched black and devastated, the place looked nothing alike from her memories.

 Whether it be buildings, walls, streets or anything, it was demolished to the point of being unrecognisable. The desolation filled capital was also a mark of display of how fiercely the forces of the kingdom had fought.

Although they were ultimately defeated, signs of their fierce struggle could still be seen everywhere in the city. Cynthia's eyes glossed over as memories of this beautiful metropolis before its fall, flooded into her mind.

"Princess are you alright?" the guard captain Alvara came over and asked.

"Yeah, nothing can shake me at this point" Taking a deep breath, she spoke. Then she turned towards her friend and asked "How about you?".

Just like how this place held many memories for her, Alvara who was born in the capital similarly held many memories, both good and bad. "Yeah, I was just reminded of my brother a little. I wonder if he would be proud of me if he saw that I survived and came back to take the capital back from the enemies".

As the Knight captain of the royal family, her brother Cyrus stayed behind in the capital and fended off the enemy till his last breath. She could still remember the figure of his broad back as he led a group of knights to protect the citizens of the capital.

That reliable back of his felt like he would be able to shoulder even if the sky collapsed. While all the nobles ran taking off their powerful subordinates with them, Cyrus was the only one who protected the weak citizens while covering their retreat.

 In the last hours, he even sent her and the princess away with his subordinates guarding while he remained behind. His loyalty to the kingdom was unquestioned. If there was anyone who deserved to be called the captain of the knights it was perhaps only her brother.

He viewed his duty so seriously that even the last words that he spoke to her before sending her away were not some filial love but instead responsibilities for his duty and the love he had for this kingdom.

Of course, Alvara knew that it was not because her brother did not love her on the contrary it was because he loved her that he couldn't see the place she was born in to be taken over by the foreign invaders.

 And so, after experiencing numerous events along the way, she was finally back here today to take the capital back from the enemy. Alvara wondered if her brother would be proud of her.

While the two people in the front were busy reminiscing about the old times, across from them, figures appeared on top of the wall one after another. Wearing dark grey gears of exceptional quality, marked with the insignia of a blood red sword, they were elite fighters of the kingdom of Blackthorn.

"Tainted Knights" Cynthia and the others narrowed their eyes immediately recognising the enemy's identity. After fighting them for so long, they were aware of the forces of the kingdom of Balckthron.

Clad in dark grey armour and wielding corrupted blades, they strike fear in their opponents just by their mere presence. The tainted Knight Unit was one of the core and elite forces of the kingdom of Blackthorn.

There were also other units like the Hellfire Artillery Corps— corps that was made of all mages who specialise in devastating large area attack magic. Their enchanted staffs unleash torrents of powerful magic like hellfire on enemies, cities and fortified positions alike.

Master of siege warfare, they reduce enemy defences to rubble, paving the way for the Blackthorn ground forces.

And then there was also the Enslaved Legion— Legion comprising of those captured and subjugated in conquered territories. The Enslaved Legion is a grim testament to Blackthorn's conquest.

Forced into service under the threat of brutal punishment, these reluctant soldiers fight on the front lines. While lacking in morale, they are numerous, and the kingdom uses them as expendable pawns to wear down enemy forces.

Neverhtless, the true elite force of the kingdom Blackthorn was still their Tainted Knight legion without any doubt.

All the nobles on Cynthia's side had grim faces as they saw dark grey figures slowly rising on the opposite side. As the two sides glared at each other in a weird stalemate, there was finally some movement from the opposite side.

A deep and loud sound resounded across the entire domain and in grand and impressive fashion, a couple of figures slowly walked out and stood on top of the wall.

 Leading the group, was a middle aged man with a fairly handsome face. His sharp expression, chiselled face and slight creases on the forehead gave everyone the feeling that he was a veteran of the war. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Decked in impressive looking military garb with numerous accolades sewn to his clothes, the man was none other than the highest authority present in the capital at this moment. The general and the commander in chief of the forces of Blackthorn.

 When he came out, immediately numerous eyes was drawn towards him. Some had utmost respect for him while some held fear and reverence and some hatred. Especially the gazes from Cytnhia's side, all held indescribable emotions of hatred and animosity towards him.

With regards to being subjected to all kinds of glares, there was not even the slightest bit of change in the expression of the general. In fact, as he stood there glancing at the opposing army, it was as if he was soaking in all that malevolent energy.

Behind him stood a man with a pot round belly and a short figure. He was none other than Marshall Cavalier, the man directly responsible for the fall of their kingdom.

Although the general is the overall commander in chief of the forces of Balckthorn, unless absolutely necessary he does not step into the field. It is Marshall Cavalier who handles the battles and is always present in the field.

When the nobles on Cynthia's side saw the pot bellied man, their resentment and enmity increased up a notch.

"Haha" Being used to these kinds of stares, Marshall Cavalier simply laughed in the face of it. His eyes faced the distant Cynthia and the other nobles as he grinned.

An eerie silence descended onto the battlefield and the air was thick with the scent of gunpowder. 

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