Chapter 170 – Break the Siege: The Morale Gambit

  Dawn Over Westmarch

  Dawn rose over Fort Westmarch.

  And it did not rise quietly.

  The young messenger they had sent through death and darkness returned in tatters — armor cracked, cloak burned, eyes hollow.

  But alive.

  And successful.

  Reinforcements had arrived.

  They entered from the eastern slope.

  But the fiercest breach was in the west.

  So Sir Caelum Ardent did not hesitate.

  He wheeled Valeriant mid-gallop.

  “Knights! With me!”

  Fifty cavalry thundered across the outer ridge, cutting diagonally through chaos to strike where the line bent the worst.

  Behind them, Selene advanced with the main host.

  Steel met claw in earnest.

  The beasts who once surged like a tidal wave now slowed.

  Not retreating.

  But adjusting.

  Watching.

  Waiting.

  The Overseer

  An officer ran across churned earth toward a tall figure standing atop a rocky outcrop.

  Silva the Slaughter observed the battlefield with folded arms.

  When he saw the Baron’s banner rising—

  His lips curled.

  “Good,” he murmured.

  The officer blinked. “…General?”

  Silva did not look at him.

  “Let them come.”

  Everything was unfolding precisely as intended.

  Rivel’s Front – The Stall

  “HAAA!!!”

  Crimson flame burst from the tip of Rivel’s Twin head spear, heat distorting the air around him.

  He moved like a wildfire.

  Stab. Jab. Hook.

  Pierce. Twist. Sweep.

  Footwork shifting rhythm like a deadly dance.

  Beasts circled him.

  But they did not commit.

  They tested.

  Retreated.

  Prodded again.

  Rivel grinned fiercely. “What’s wrong? Afraid?”

  Silence.

  They weren’t afraid.

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  They were measuring.

  Buying time.

  Rivel grin faded slightly.

  “You’re stalling?”

  He rush in the group of beast, tried to force answer out of them.

  Grim Vulture – The Illusion Field

  On another flank, Grim Vulture tore through ranks with coordinated brutality.

  Lyra’s illusions multiplied shadows across the field.

  Kael dashed forward.

  A beast smirked.

  “Foolish human—”

  Swish.

  Its claw passed through air.

  Half a second later—

  A cut opened across its ribs.

  It collapsed in confusion.

  “It’s delayed impact!” another beast shouted. “Don’t react to the illusion — the real strike follows!”

  They adapted quickly.

  Another one leap in and the beast prepared to strike behind illusion

  Mira’s twin daggers found eye sockets in a blink.

  Before Illusion reach him.

  The howl rung loud.

  “Use scent! Use hearing!” a beast captain roared.

  Which made Roderic’s next move devastating.

  An arrow landed.

  Red mist erupted.

  COUGH!

  “My nose—!”

  “My lungs burn!”

  Chili dust.

  Simple.

  Cruel.

  Effective.

  And still—

  The beasts disengaged.

  They withdrew in formation.

  Kael’s brows furrowed.

  “They could overwhelm us.”

  But they didn’t.

  “They’re not trying to win this front…”

  His blood ran cold.

  “They’re stalling us.”

  Four Bastion(+1) – Same Conclusion

  Elsewhere, Four Bastion reached identical realization.

  “They’re preserving strength,” muttered Garrick. “Only committing if cornered.”

  Seraphine hovered above, scanning.

  Her bracelet glowed faintly.

  She felt her.

  Alive.

  Still fighting.

  Drawing her mana.

  She exhaled.

  Then—

  BOOM!

  Lightning struck below.

  Selene.

  The beasts around her fought differently.

  They lunged recklessly.

  No hesitation.

  No retreat.

  “Take the Guild Master first!” one roared.

  Selene’s eyes crackled with twin shades of thunder.

  “You want my head? Come and claim it.”

  Whips roared.

  Lightning fell in succession.

  The ground blackened.

  When the smoke cleared—

  Charred bodies surrounded her.

  But she was breathing hard.

  A little hard.

  Seraphine landed.

  “They’re stalling outside,” she reported. “Not committing.”

  Selene froze.

  Simulation ran in her head.

  Info leak.

  Simultaneous rush.

  Selective aggression.

  Stalling key figures.

  Targeting her.

  … Assassination?

  Her expression shifted.

  “…No.”

  Her voice dropped.

  “They’re not trying to break the wall.”

  She looked toward the fort.

  “They’re trying to break morale.”

  Seraphine blinked.

  “If the Margrave dies,” Selene said sharply, “the garrison collapses. The Baron’s army loses purpose. Westmarch falls even if the walls stand.”

  Seraphine face went pale after realization.

  “Emerald gale! Fly in and inform the troops inside! They need to protect the Margrave!”

  Seraphine push her flight magic and leap over the wall as fast as she could.

  Selene stomach tightened.

  “He’s playing the mind.”

  And he anticipated reinforcements.

  “Break through! We enter the fort immediately!”

  Silva’s Real Target

  From his vantage point, Silva watched Selene shift formation.

  A slow chuckle left him.

  “She figured it out.”

  He tapped a clawed finger against the hilt at his waist.

  “Send the inner blades.”

  Hidden units already within the chaos of the breached sectors began moving.

  Toward one man.

  Margrave Alaric.

  The Push – Silver Ward

  Seraphine relayed urgency through her paired bracelet.

  Not words.

  Just instinct.

  The fort is in danger. Reach it. Now.

  Ivaline felt it.

  She didn’t question.

  BOOM!

  Wind erupted from her blade, scattering beasts like leaves.

  Another figure entered with Iaijutsu stance.

  SWISH…

  One flash.

  Three strokes.

  Multiple body parts.

  Ivaline turned to Vaelis.

  “Must go.”

  “Where?”

  “Fort.”

  “Why?”

  “Danger.”

  “Urgent?”

  “Much.”

  “Follow?”

  “Fine.”

  She nodded once.

  They ran.

  Behind them—

  Three Orcish brothers followed.

  “WHERE WE GO?”

  “Fort.”

  “GOOD!”

  “WE RUSH!”

  “WE CRUSH!”

  “WE BREAK!”

  They became a spearhead.

  Beasts rushed to intercept.

  “Stop them! Don’t let them reach the gate!”

  Shield walls stacked in layers before the breached entrance.

  A cruel irony.

  Invaders defending a gate they had shattered.

  Vaelis glanced sideways. “Plan?”

  Ivaline’s eyes narrowed.

  “No time.”

  Before she could move—

  “LEAVE IT TO US!”

  Gruthak hurled twin tomahawks in wide arcs.

  They curved behind the shield line.

  Screams erupted from the rear.

  Formation destabilized.

  He leapt atop the shields, ripping weapons free mid-motion.

  ROARRRR!!!

  His roar breaks their morale down even more.

  Gertakt followed.

  BOOM!

  His hammer crushed the center mass.

  The wall cracked.

  Gretukt waded through broken bodies, snapping necks with bare hands.

  “NO LINE!”

  “NO FORM!”

  “ONLY BREAK!”

  Within seconds—

  The “unbreakable” formation collapsed into panic.

  The three brothers planted themselves at the breach.

  “GO, SILVER WARD!”

  “WE HOLD!”

  “WE CRUSH!”

  Ivaline didn’t look back.

  She and Vaelis burst through the gate into the inner fort.

  Many allies followed after.

  While the three berserkers hold the gate.

  And inside—

  The real battle had not yet begun.

  Somewhere within stone corridors soaked in blood—

  Assassins moved.

  And a Margrave unaware that he was already marked.

  Three Orcish Brothers.