Gospel of Blood

Chapter 294: The Enemy at the Gates

“Quickly, clean the inscriptions on this stone-thrower! Those mages said it must be spotless to work properly!”

“Is the stone ready? They’re pushing us again from the bridgehead. The Count’s mansion ordered the outer wall of the bridgehead to be repaired by today!”

Outside Northport, along the Dorn River, craftsmen were busy repairing the outer wall of the Northport Bridge under the guidance of mage apprentices.

The bridge, which spanned the Dorn River and connected Northport with the mainland, was as crucial as the Castell Bridge.

If the Castell Bridge, linking Northport to the northern mainland, was the last line of defense, then the Northport Bridge, connecting the north and south sides of the Dorn River, was the key to whether the rebels could advance north and cut off Northport’s retreat.

On both sides of the Northport Bridge, the walls had been repaired, and craftsmen were busy preparing various defensive structures, all aimed at protecting this crucial bridge.

In the tower of the Count’s mansion, Charlotte stood by the railing, watching the bustling Northport under the shadow of war.

She saw warships patrolling the harbor, stone-throwers repositioned on the coastal walls, and the encampments stretching along the northern bank of the Dorn River.

She was lost in thought until she heard familiar footsteps. She turned her gaze from the scene and smiled slightly at the approaching figure.

Viscount Leon-Castell hesitated before nodding.

“Yes, Countess. News from the south: the Borde-Violet army has taken the closest fortress to Northport. The vanguard is expected to reach the Dorn River by tomorrow.”

“Oh? The last fortress has fallen? Which family does it belong to?”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow.

Viscount Leon-Castell looked embarrassed.

“Count… it’s… it’s our family’s.”

Charlotte turned and gave him a peculiar look.

Feeling her piercing gaze, the Old Viscount quickly spoke.

“Countess, the loyalty of the Leon-Castell family…”

“Don’t worry, I don’t blame you.”

Charlotte interrupted.

She turned back to look at the expansive plains, hills, waterways, and villages of the Castell territory.

“The speed of the southern collapse is surprising but understandable.”

She said.

“For noble families, long-term survival is most important. Eggs can’t be all in one basket, and even a broken basket can be a spare.”

Leon-Castell’s face grew even more awkward.

“Countess, regardless of the others’ choices, since I’ve chosen to stand here, I will fight with you to the last moment.”

He said.

Charlotte nodded.

“I understand. Your help in defending Northport is enough for me.”

She said, then chuckled.

“Honestly, compared to those nobles who can only rely on their own troops against their overlords, I’m already fortunate to command an army of over ten thousand.”

The Viscount had no words for this, and Charlotte didn’t dwell on the sensitive topic.

The speed of the Southern collapse indicated many nobles weren’t willing to resist to death. She wasn’t outraged by this, understanding that faced with the Third Prince’s overwhelming army, those nobles had little choice.

Feudal lords’ control over their vassals was limited, akin to a company boss’ relationship with employees rather than an emperor with ministers.

The nobles had fulfilled their duty by providing conscripts and taxes and even personally aiding in the defense. She couldn’t force them all to risk their lives.

Such loyalty required centralization, a charismatic leader, and fervent devotion from the nobles, a level of leadership even King Louis V couldn’t achieve. In the history she knew, few leaders had managed this.

“Is there anything else?”

Charlotte asked, looking at Viscount Leon-Castell.

The Viscount hesitated.

“Countess, have you truly considered not destroying the Northport Bridge? Destroying it would secure our position. We could hold out against the Third Prince indefinitely.”

He said.

Charlotte shook her head.

“We could hold out, but destroying the bridge also prevents our army from moving south.”

The Viscount was stunned and then asked hesitantly.

“Are you really planning to counterattack? But our forces are too…”

“Wait, do you mean the reinforcements are real? Not just to reassure the nobles?”

He asked in surprise.

Charlotte smiled.

“When did I say the reinforcements were fake?”

“Then, who are these reinforcements?”

He asked, puzzled.

…

The coalition forces advanced faster than the Third Prince had expected. Or rather, Castell’s better-developed roads compared to the impoverished Borde and forested Violet regions facilitated quicker movement.

Most northern nobles surrendered without a fight, and only a few stubborn “fools” offered resistance. In just ten days, the massive army reached the banks of the Dorn River.

Riding his dragon-scaled horse, the Third Prince Philip looked at the Northport Bridge spanning the river and the city of Northport beyond it. A look of determined greed flashed in his eyes.

Turning to his companions, he pointed to the distant bustling city and smiled.

“From now on, this place won’t be called Castell anymore.”

“Announce a rest for today. We attack tomorrow!”

…

Meanwhile, in the Roman Duchy, at Mile Port—the largest port of the Starfall Kingdom—a fleet of fast galleys loaded with stone-throwers and soldiers was ready to set sail.

Count Yurst stood at the bow of the flagship, eyes closed.

After a long while, he opened them slowly.

“The time is right. Signal the fleet to hoist the Castell flags, raise the sails, and prepare to set sail.”

He ordered the bloodborne beside him.

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