As the enemy appeared in the distance, Fanna spotted the fully armed Knights riding tall steeds in gleaming armor, advancing slowly toward the town. Normally, a single Knight lord would be a towering figure in the town, but now nearly a hundred of them had emerged at once. The sight sent a shiver down his spine.
Vanne felt his palms sweat again, as if he were standing on a city wall facing a demonic beast for the first time. But this time, he was confronting his kind—the Noble Alliance of Changge Fortress.
"No," he spat, brushing aside his thoughts. "Kindred? When did the Nobles ever regard you as one of their own?" He mused with self-mockery. Their mission was to seize Border Town and reassert control over the North Slope Mines. But more crucially, they were plotting to drive Your Royal Highness out of the Western Frontier—a move the entire First Army would never tolerate.
Yesterday, Your Highness made it crystal clear in his pre-war address that Tefiko Wimbledon—your Highness's brother—had conspired to seize the throne, leading to the death of the late King Wimbledon III. While Fanna had no issue with these royal and noble affairs—the King's succession was a matter of course—Duke Lain's attempt to seize Your Highness's domain under this pretext was utterly outrageous.
Just imagine what Border Town was like before Your Highness arrived. The former Lord, who was a mere count rarely seen in public, would even bring his personal guards to purchase furs, often buying the best goods from hunters at rock-bottom prices. When the Evil Demon's Moon first struck, he was the first to flee, and the townspeople never cared when they suffered in the fortress slums.
Under Your Royal Highness's governance, Border Town has flourished with visible progress. Fan Na observed that miners' earnings grew proportionally with their output. When Your Highness deployed the black machine in the North Slope Mine, the increased production was credited to the workers. Whether constructing city walls or processing ore, villagers received their wages punctually. This winter saw no deaths from hunger or cold.
The most significant change, of course, is the militia—no, the First Army now. With them guarding the town, no one has to huddle in the fortress's freezing wooden huts during winter, begging the nobles for a bite of food. If Your Royal Highness were to pass away, would the Duke still allow the First Army to exist?
Vanne took a few deep breaths and wiped the sweat from his hands onto his clothes. They would never allow it. Noble Fortress didn't care about the townspeople's lives or deaths—just as Your Highness had said: Only an army made of the people would fight for the people.
He raised his head to the left sky, where a faint black dot hovered in the distance. At first glance, it might have been a large bird. That was Lightning, the artillery group's firing commander, observing enemy movements from a vantage point with the trees lining the road as cover. When she returned, Vanna had noticed too. Unless she ventured into the open area, the people below could only see the branches on either side when looking up, making it hard to spot the Witch scouting overhead.
For a quarter of an hour, the lightning flashed to a position nearer the front line, flashing a green ribbon.
This indicated the enemy had entered the 1-kilometer warning range. While Vanne remained uncertain about the exact distance of '1 kilometer' mentioned by Your Highness, the sight of the green signal triggered his instinctive response. Following the drill protocol, he immediately issued the commands for loading and adjusting the firing angle.
The four gun crews swiftly completed the sequence, adjusting the muzzle elevation to the third position and loading both gunpowder and solid projectiles into the barrels.
He had assumed that standing on the city wall battling the demonic beasts would make him an experienced fighter. But Faner realized today that he still fell far short of Iron Axe and Brian. His heart had been racing uncontrollably since the afternoon assembly. When the two led their teams into the firing positions, not only did God remain calm as usual, but he could even detect a hint of eagerness in Brian's voice. Yet even now, he still couldn't regain his composure—Rodney and his brother seemed to be handling it better than he. This left Faner feeling somewhat disheartened.
He licked his dry lips and looked again for the lightning.
At this moment, the enemy's advance suddenly slowed down considerably.
"What are they doing?" Rodney asked.
"Unclear," the cat-claw gazed wide-eyed. "They're adjusting formation? Their ranks look chaotic." "They're waiting for reinforcements," Youtai's voice trembled. "Lord Knight can't fight alone—there must be a full army following them." "You know this?" Nelson pouted.
"I've seen it! A Knight lord always has at least two retainers and a dozen serfs hauling provisions for them," he counted on his fingers. "Just look at a fortress duke—his men number over a hundred Knights. The cavalry alone must be three hundred. Add the counts and viscounts in the realm... and there are even more! Then there are mercenaries—those bloodthirsty warriors who slaughter without mercy! We're barely three hundred in total." "Under three hundred," Vanna corrected himself. The musketeers had only 270 armed men, which Your Highness called a "short supply." Those without muskets were now assigned to the artillery, hauling ammunition for the four cannons. But seeing others perform even worse, he felt a twinge of relief.
"That's the mercenary, they're here!" Youtai shouted.
Van Nantai glanced ahead and saw a ragtag group of men gradually taking the front of the battlefield. They were neither mounted nor in formation, but gathered in small groups toward the center. The Knights, meanwhile, dispersed to the flanks, seemingly making way for the mercenaries. Compared to half an hour earlier, the Duke's allied forces had moved much closer.
At that moment, a Knight charged out from the allied forces and dashed toward Border Town. Fanna's heart tightened, nearly blurted out the firing order.
What was this for? He looked up but still saw no lightning, while the other party drew nearer and waved a white flag.
"He's the duke's envoy," Youtai muttered, "likely to persuade them to surrender." "That's none of our business," Rodney crouched behind the cannon, aligning his eyes with the barrel's centerline. "Commander, we need to adjust the cannon's direction. Most Knights have already withdrawn from the battlefield." During their live-fire drills, they'd been taught that the cannon's effective range extended along the straight line in front of the muzzle. To hit the target, it had to be aligned with the barrel's centerline. The five of them turned the carriage slightly until the allied forces 'vanguard Knights were properly aligned with the cannon's direction.
The envoy who had come alone was immediately escorted to the rear of the defensive lines by Lord Carter. However, Fanna knew the Duke's move was merely a waste of time—Your Royal Highness would never agree to surrender.
Suddenly, lightning flashed toward the town's defenses, and her arms waved, the yellow ribbon in her hand fluttering in the wind.
The yellow signal indicates the enemy has entered the 800-meter range, where artillery shells have a chance to hit the target. All gun crews may fire freely unless the artillery commander gives the order to stop.
The team members noticed the signal too. All eyes turned to Fan Na, who nodded and took a deep breath. "Fire!"