Volume 2 chapter 29
The City of Darkness. The High Council Hall.
"Laptara Fortress has fallen. The Alliance Eastern Army Group is moving south. Abbys Fortress faces imminent encirclement!"
"Talisk Fortress is holding, but casualties are critical. Requesting immediate support!"
"The walls of Picars City have been breached. Grand Duke Marseilles reports that he cannot withstand another charge!"
...
Clyris listened to the torrent of bad news, a heavy sigh escaping her lips.
Although the Alliance Saints were temporarily out of action, the situation remained dire. A coordinated siege by dozens of Ninth-Rank powerhouses was something even she would have to flee from.
"What is the specific situation at Picars?" Clyris asked.
"Picars has roughly 350,000 soldiers remaining, but the mid-ranking officer corps has been decimated—only a thousand are left. The walls are breached and cannot be repaired. Only three Fortress Guns remain operational!" Lilith grit her teeth as she reported. "It is only because Marseilles has led multiple suicide counter-charges that the city still stands!"
"Marseilles... he has suffered greatly..." Clyris sighed. After absorbing the routed troops from the west, his force had once swelled to nearly a million. Now, less than forty percent remained.
She turned to the map. "And Talisk?"
"Critical. The Alliance is at the gates. Rowling's air wing is nearly annihilated. Without large-scale bombing support, landmines alone cannot stop their advance!" Lilith clenched her fists in frustration.
"Sigh..."
Clyris felt the weight of command crushing her. The Alliance was pressing in on all sides, and apart from herself, the demons had no one capable of breaking the enemy's formations.
The landmines had proven ineffective against High-Rank elites. A simple Elemental Sight revealed them instantly; the mana stones inside the mines shone like bonfires in the dark against the barren earth.
Even the bombers—their only effective method of mass destruction—were being strangled by the Alliance's new Three-Layer Air Defense Network.
The humans were quick learners. After suffering through the initial bombing runs, They adapted Aerial Knights for early warning, Seventh-Rank Vanguards for interception and Eighth-Rank Elites for the kill."
This network covered altitudes from 3,000 to 20,000 meters. Even if a thousand bombers launched, fewer than five hundred would return—and that was with fighter escorts.
Technologically, 20,000 meters was the absolute ceiling for the current airframe designs.
Beyond that altitude, the air was razor-thin, and the Mana Turbulence was terrifying enough to strip the skin off an Eighth-Ranker.
Once a Type-2 aircraft exceeded 21,000 meters, its service life plummeted off a cliff. For every additional 1,000 meters, structural durability dropped by 20%. At 25,000 meters, the airframe would disintegrate within minutes due to stress and mana corrosion.
"Your Majesty, what should we do?" Lilith looked at Clyris with pleading eyes.
"The priority is to reinforce Marseilles. He is in the most danger!" Clyris said, forcing calm into her voice.
She could not show panic. She was their last pillar. If she cracked, the entire resistance would crumble.
"How do we reinforce them?" Cossette asked from the side.
"I will go!"
Clyris slammed her hand on the table and stood up, her eyes locked on the map.
"Your Majesty... that's..." Lilith started to protest, but seeing the steely resolve on Clyris's face, she swallowed her words.
"These are my orders!" Clyris waved her baton.
"Lilith, Cossette. Take 300,000 troops and reinforce Abbys Fortress!"
"Yes!"
Lilith and Cossette responded in unison. Though not fully recovered, they could exert power close to the Eighth Rank. Combined with the forces already at Abbys—Plum, Seraphina, Blake, and Gareth—that front would be the strongest defensive line, surpassing even Luna's position at Talisk.
"Byron, Finn, Eleanor, Claire. Take 300,000 troops and reinforce Talisk Fortress!"
"Yes, Your Majesty!" Four Seventh-Rank demons bowed.
"Gina, Bella, Lucas, Marcus. You four will come with me. We take 300,000 troops to save Marseilles!"
"Yes, Your Majesty!" The four Seventh-Rank demons stood up excitedly.
"Grayson." Clyris looked at the last remaining commander, a Seventh-Rank Stone Demon. "You will take the final 100,000 troops and garrison the City of Darkness. Continue building fortifications and transporting supplies. You are the last line of defense."
"I shall not fail you, Your Majesty!" The towering rock-man bowed his head respectfully.
"Everyone. The Alliance Saints have been grievously wounded. They are at their weakest right now! There is no need for fear. We will win!"
Clyris punched the map for emphasis.
"YES!!"
The eleven demons roared, their voices filled with renewed strength.
___________________________
Picars City.
Originally, this was just an ordinary satellite city, existing solely to screen Talisk Fortress.
Its walls were only sixteen meters high, protected by two Eighth-Rank Defensive Arrays. Surrounding it were endless plains—terrain perfectly suited for a knight's charge.
When the Thunder Demon Marseilles first arrived, he realized immediately that defending the walls was suicide.
So, he did the unthinkable. He scattered his 500,000 troops outside the city.
Born to fly in the high skies and rule the heavens with lightning, Marseilles suppressed his instincts. He took his demons down into the mud and ordered them to dig.
Thanks to the devastating night bombing raid weeks ago, the Alliance Western Army Group had been delayed, buying him a precious week and a half.
When the Alliance finally arrived, they were dumbfounded.
Marseilles had carved the flat plains into a nightmare. Multiple lines of zigzagging trenches stretched for over a hundred kilometers. Each trench was fifteen meters wide and ten meters deep. Between the trenches, earth walls three to four meters high had been erected using the excavated soil.
Even the finest warhorse could not leap over such obstacles.
It was a death trap.
Once a knight fell into the trench, the advantage of cavalry was gone. Inside those muddy pits, low-rank demons clad in heavy armor inscribed with Fourth-Rank Defensive Arrays swarmed them like ants on a beetle.
In front of the trenches, Marseilles planted forests of iron caltrops and hedgehogs. While they couldn't stop a heavy charge, they were more than enough to slow down the lower-ranked fodder.
Using these tactics, Marseilles had held the line. The Alliance had failed to breach the city walls in the first assault.
Forced into close-quarters combat in the narrow, muddy trenches, the knights lost their mobility. This gave the low-rank demons a fighting chance.
Normally, a low-rank demon was fodder for a mid-rank knight. But in the trench, numbers mattered.
If a demon managed to get close, they didn't try to stab the knight. They pulled the pin on a satchel charge.
Suicide Bombing.
Even a High-Rank Knight would be critically injured by ten kilograms of enchanted explosives detonating against their chest.
It was cruel. It was brutal. But it worked. Marseilles held the line for nearly a month.
But the cost was staggering. In twenty days, a million troops—including reinforcements—had been ground down to 350,000.
Eventually, the Alliance broke through the final trench line. Three Ninth-Rank Knights organized a spearhead charge that shattered the deadlock.
The breach proved Marseilles right; once the trenches were bypassed, the city walls of Picars fell almost instantly.
Fortunately, the final trench line was over ten kilometers from the city. By the time the knights reached the breach, their stamina was drained.
With the support of six Fortress Guns, Marseilles led his shock troops in desperate counter-charges. At the cost of three destroyed guns, they managed to push the exhausted knights back out of the breach.
"Your Highness... I am truly at my limit..."
Marseilles stood at the gap in the city wall, his armor battered and scorched. He watched the blood-red sun set in the west and exhaled a long, heavy breath.
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