Chapter 136: The Conquest of Silverymoon
The magical airships extended their arcane cannons. Spell circles ignited with energy. Beams of devastating power lanced toward the earth below.
A cavalry charge caught the barrage and vanished instantly. Only charred limbs and the stench of burned flesh remained.
"This isn't war," the Grand Duke said, staring at the hellish battlefield. The former leader of the Flaming Fist, exiled from Baldur's Gate, watched despair etch across his weathered features. "It's a massacre."
The other allied generals shared his expression. They saw no path to victory. Only the senseless sacrifice of their soldiers' blood.
The war they had prepared for so long ended with devastating swiftness. The Emperor's legions crushed the Lords' Alliance army with ease. Broken corpses littered the battlefield. Crimson blood stained the rivers.
The Lords' Alliance was utterly routed. Less than a tenth of their forces survived the slaughter.
The Emperor's golden gaze swept across the carnage with cold satisfaction. "Let us begin the conquest of this world," he commanded.
He would not pause for victory. The Master of Mankind would devour the entire Sword Coast first. Then Faerûn. Finally, all of Toril itself.
.....
Silverymoon stood as the jewel of the North and the beating heart of the Lords' Alliance. The city stretched along the northern bank of the River Rauvin. Wide docks lined the waterfront. The legendary Moonbridge, a magical span visible only under moonlight, arced gracefully across the flowing waters.
Majestic walls curved in a protective semicircle along the riverbank. They enclosed a city of remarkable beauty. Elegant buildings rose between carefully tended trees. Distinctive marble sculptures graced every district. Cobblestone roads lined with grass wound through every corner.
After the Alliance's crushing defeat, the Emperor's legions swept across the Sword Coast and northern territories like an unstoppable tide. As the Alliance's heart, Silverymoon became the primary target.
The Emperor divided his forces with tactical precision. Three of his gene-forged sons led armies to conquer different regions. He personally set his sights upon Silverymoon, the greatest prize.
Whooooom! Whooooom!
War horns boomed across the city. Their deep voices shook the stones and echoed through every street. Citizens frantically gathered their belongings. They fled through the gates in a desperate exodus.
The city guard remained at their posts. Their trembling forms betrayed hearts consumed by terror. On the walls, generals watched the approaching magical fleet and ground forces with ashen faces.
The few survivors who escaped the earlier battle brought tales of horror. They spoke of explosions that vaporised hundred-man companies in seconds. Not even whole corpses remained. Battlefields transformed into charnel houses of severed limbs and rotting flesh.
Boom! Boom!
Magical constructs and steel guardians advanced with thunderous steps. Each footfall shook the earth. They halted just beyond Silverymoon's defensive perimeter.
The airship fleet spread across the sky like birds of prey. They encircled the entire city. Arcane cannon muzzles glowed with gathering psionic energy. They accumulated power for the devastation to come.
The Emperor stood upon the command vessel's deck alongside his gene-sons and Raven. His eyes surveyed the beautiful city below. Even in this alien realm, his presence commanded the same awe that had once brought worlds to their knees during humanity's Great Crusade.
Several high-ranking mages rose on levitation spells to meet them. At their head flew a woman in pale robes. She carried a unicorn-headed staff bearing Silverymoon's heraldry.
"Lady Alustriel Silverhand," the Emperor spoke. Through Raven's psychic gifts, he had learned her identity.
Alustriel was a powerful sorceress and Chosen of Mystra, the goddess of magic herself. She had lived over seven centuries, ruling Silverymoon for more than a hundred years.
"Respected lord," Alustriel said, bowing gracefully. Her gaze toward the Emperor was complex. He possessed a nobility and sacred presence that surpassed mortal understanding. Even divine avatars paled before his majesty. She wondered what mysterious nature he truly possessed.
"I am pleased by such address," the Master of Mankind replied. His voice carried the authority that had once united Terra's warring nations. "Does this mean Silverymoon surrenders? Do you abandon futile resistance?"
"If so, the city shall remain intact. No innocent blood need be spilled."
Alustriel had spent her long life promoting peace between races and advancing magical knowledge. Silverymoon was more than just a city. It embodied her life's work and ideals.
"Is there no alternative?" she asked. "Silverymoon could become your vassal. Through us, the entire Lords' Alliance would serve you."
The Emperor's expression remained cold. "Had there been no war, I might have considered such terms. But the die has been cast. You have been found wanting."
"Some things, once lost upon the field of battle, can never be reclaimed through negotiation. You have but two choices: Silverymoon reduced to ash and bone, or unconditional surrender."
His unwavering resolve gave Alustriel pause. She looked up at the massive warships bristling with magical energies. Then she examined the ground forces, constructs and guardians radiating mechanical menace.
With a soft sigh, she made her choice. "I surrender."
There was no alternative. If this lord commanded an attack, Silverymoon would be obliterated. All who remained would face a horrific end. She could not bear to witness such destruction.
"Wisdom," the Emperor acknowledged with satisfaction. His golden gaze already turned toward the city's conquest.
Silverymoon's upper district housed the wealthy and influential. These noble families had deep roots and complex webs throughout northern politics. Through wealth and status, they had shaped the city's decisions for generations. Their positions had remained secure for centuries.
Without this war, they would have enjoyed their privileged lives indefinitely. Now it was over.
With Alustriel's surrender, the nobles found themselves powerless to organise meaningful resistance. Even their vast treasuries couldn't buy salvation. The battlefield reports were too terrifying. No mercenary would accept gold they'd never live to spend.
Enville led the Steel Sentinels into the upper district. The Emperor had ordered them to confiscate the powerful families' wealth. Many nobles had fled with portable treasures. What remained still constituted staggering riches.
The magical constructs were forged from steel and sorcery. They possessed no human emotions. Only absolute obedience to their commands. Threats, intimidation, and bribery proved useless against them.
The noble families could only watch helplessly. Fortunes accumulated over generations were stripped away. Those who attempted resistance were immediately suppressed and executed. Their headless corpses were left in the streets as warnings to others.
"Move! Move!" soldiers barked. They herded dishevelled nobles away from their former mansions.
Enville watched with satisfaction. Silverymoon, the North's most glorious pearl and the Lords' Alliance's heart. He had once dreamed of establishing himself here. But the competition had been too fierce. The established nobles formed an impenetrable web of interests that excluded all outsiders.
Now he held the lives of these important figures in his hands. Conquering Silverymoon had proven far simpler than trying to earn a place within it.
"I owe everything to my own efforts," Enville reflected with emotion. The journey had been incredibly difficult.
"Never again will I allow anyone to speak down to me."
"Enville!" A mounted soldier galloped up. "The Emperor sends new orders: for those willing to cooperate and surrender their wealth, don't make things unnecessarily harsh."
Enville immediately adopted a respectful smile. His legs moved swiftly as he hurried to the messenger.
"Please tell the Emperor that I will handle everything perfectly."
[End of Chapter]
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