NOVEL NEXT 125. The Blood-Slick Halls
The thunder of cannons shook the stone tiles beneath Luka's boots. He glanced at the soldiers that surrounded him with a grin. In their eyes was a flame that burned brighter than anything he had seen before. A conviction that existed far beyond the realm of mortals. They were in the depths of the castle, within the inner tunnels of the fortress that extended well beyond the walls.
"It seems like the party's started," Luka said, glancing at Liam and Jones. "Before you guys finish your task and head out… I want you to know that it's been an honor fighting beside you."
"The pleasure's all ours." Liam forced a smile. His eyes were slightly red with the tears he fought to hold back. "We wouldn't have made it this far if it weren't for you and the Captain."
Luka chuckled. "You guys give us too much credit. After seeing how well the Thirty-First has performed, I'm sure you guys would've been fine without us."
He watched the men unroll the final spool of wire. "That's good enough. I can handle the rest from here." Luka gave a reassuring pat on Jones's shoulder. "Make sure you get some rest when you return to the capital."
Jones stood still while tightly clenching his fist. "Isn't there anything else we could do to help?"
A smile tugged at the edge of Luka's lips. He never expected the Thirty-First to be so adamant on the matter. Most would have accepted without refusing, but their loyalty was touching. Even if their time was short, it was a pleasant one.
"The Commander's orders are absolute," Luka replied. "You've already done your part, so let us do ours."
A bitterness filled Jones's chest. He didn't want to leave like this. None of them did, and Luka understood their feelings. After everything they've been through, after being trapped in hell with no one but each other. The thought of leaving his comrades to their deaths was unbearable. However, most of the volunteers who stayed behind were veterans in their field, battle-hardened soldiers who had lost those they cherished to the war. Their purpose in staying wasn't simply to protect, but for vengeance.
Something that Jones and Liam resonated with, but were denied the privilege of.
"Will we see you again?" Jones asked.
Luka met Jones's gaze, noticing the sorrow written on the young man's face. He nodded with a smile that was shared between friends, yet a trace of hesitation lingered on his lips. After a moment, he grasped Jones's shoulder and gave him a light shake.
"Of course you will! Who do you take us for?" Luka said with a grin. "We're watchmen—the best of the best, and it'll take a lot more than a few knights to take us down. Now get out of here. I got some work to do, and you guys aren't making it easier."
Jones gave a faint smile at Luka's words. His fists slowly eased at his side, even though doubt still lingered. "Right… We'll be on our way then."
Liam reluctantly nodded in agreement. "We'll see you at the capital."
The soldiers bid their farewells one after another, leaving Luka in the shadows of the chamber with the detonation device. He gazed at the mechanism, its wires snaking across the damp cobblestone tiles to the explosive bundles strapped against the far pillars. The decision they made to win was one he didn't agree with, but Tucker was right.
Buildings could be rebuilt.
Monuments made anew.
The rattle of the ladder marked the last soldier's departure, and with it, the steady rush of water echoing through the chamber. Luka stood in silence at the base of the ladder. The cannons shook the earth around him. Dust fell from the ceiling, and light filtered down in fractured beams as the lanterns above him trembled. One chance—that was all they had. And if their gamble failed, then everything would end here.
.
.
.
"First group forward!" Tucker gave the order as a stampede of footsteps rushed forth.
Their large rectangular shields scraped against the bloodstained floors, locking into place as the men took shelter from behind. A metallic tang filled the air, merging with the scent of iron. Their boots sent ripples through the bloody pools that merged with the crimson carpet, and in the wake of death stood a sturdy line of soldiers that refused to yield.
A crescent formation encased the entrance, bracing against the swarm of enemy soldiers that crashed upon it. Swords and spears slammed into the wall of aura-clad shields. Desperately biting into the defenders' position, yet as the weapons collided with one another, a dreadful realization dawned upon the Empire's forces.
They couldn't break through.
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Their weapons struck the shields with a force that could topple towers, yet the moment they came into contact. A chill ran down their spines. The defenders didn't budge. They hardly moved at all except for the gleam of their blades rushing forward whenever an opening appeared. Blood dripped down their battle-scarred iron armor, dyeing their tabards in crimson as bodies fell one after another.
Yet in the darkness stood another threat. Hidden behind the shield bearers was a rank of pikemen. In one unified motion, they drove their weapons through the narrow gaps in the shields. Just over their comrades' shoulders, and skewered the foes who pressed too close. Screams tore through the chaos as a pile of bodies formed at their feet. Yet they didn't stop there. With each enemy slain, they advanced, claiming their rightful land back as cannonballs soared above their heads.
For the first time, a coordinated attack was carried out in the final moments of the bastion's defense. One that was signed off by all the defenders. Tucker kept his hand on the hilt of his blade as a sense of unease plagued him. The cannoneers worked with deliberate care, aiming the maws beyond the entrance and into the far ranks of the enemy. All shots were calculated. Each one precise. For a single misfire would break their formation.
"Take your time with each shot," Tucker instructed. "We need to make each and every single one count."
"Yes, sir!" the cannoneers shouted in unison while loading the next volley. Sweat dripped down their chins. Their hands quivered as the searing heat from the barrels stung their eyes.
Max drew his greatsword while glaring at the Empire's forces. They were slowly getting pushed back, and their momentum was falling.
"Commander, we need to head out," said Max.
"No." Tucker's voice held firm. "Not until we see the Empire's knights."
From outside the castle walls, the attackers answered with a relentless surge. Tucker frowned while focusing beyond the doors. War cries echoed against the stone walls. Shields overlapped one another. Each one locked in place as the soldiers in the center raised their shields overhead, forming a shell as the rims caught against one another. A layer of aura coated their bodies, and with a roar, they advanced.
The cannonballs crashed against the surface, but the enemy's formation held. Round after round, shells bounced off the surface, rattling harmlessly to the side while arrows failed to pierce through. The Everheart Knights stared at Tucker, awaiting his command, and with no other choice, he gave a stern nod to Max.
"Knights forward!" Tucker pulled out his sword and tossed the scabbard to the ground.
The surrounding knights followed his lead as they marched towards the enemy. With the order spreading across their ranks, the soldiers forming the shield wall slowly pulled back. They had pushed the enemy back to the doors, narrowing the chokepoint and forcing the battle into one of endurance. But now that knights were entering the fray, formations no longer mattered.
Their attacks were far too powerful, and the standard soldiers would only get in the way. Tucker gritted his teeth as they ran towards the enemy. The stench of iron and sweat filled the air. Every inch of ground was paid for with lives, and the narrow chokepoint they held allowed no room to maneuver.
No chance to retreat.
The blood-slick ground made their footing treacherous. Men slipped while trying to fall back, while others stumbled forward. Aura-clad arrows rained down one after another to cover their allies' retreat. But they couldn't save everyone.
In the suffocating hall, the battle became less of a clash of armies and instead, a field of carnage. Tucker locked eyes with an enemy soldier who charged at him. His blade flashed through the air, cutting deep into the man's neck as a line of scarlet followed. Blood splattered on his face. Yet he didn't falter and rubbed it aside with the back of his hand.
Every fiber of his being screamed to stick to their current plan. But the Empire's formation had taken away one of their most valuable weapons. Cannons rumbled again and again. Only to ricochet off the surface of their shields as the enemy buckled in place.
Tucker plunged his blade into another soldier's chest, tearing it free as his voice rose. "We need to break their formation!"
"Clear a path for me!" Brian shouted.
The Everheart knights moved without hesitation. Their greathelms with intricate designs gleamed beneath the dim light. With each stride forward, their plates glinted with a bright blue aura as their capes snapped behind. Fresh scars marked the surface of their armor from the countless battles they had survived. And before the overwhelming pressure, the Empire's forces trembled.
The knights formed a spearhead with their blades flashing as they carved into the enemy lines. Several paces behind, Brian gathered his aura, coiling the energy around his sword like a flame waiting to be unleashed. Lightning flared through the entrance, and thunder struck the ground. The silver stars on their pauldrons gleamed as rain poured in from the entrance. Their ribbons of service snapped violently in the storm's breath with every step.
Max led the charge, crashing into the Empire's ranks as bodies were hurled back. His greatsword cleaved through the men in a wide arc, tearing through their torsos in a single swing. Screams ripped through their throats while blood spilled onto the marble floor in waves.
A crimson trail led the way to the front, and after channeling his attack, Brian roared. "Make way!"
The sudden order caused the knights to split, with Max diving aside in the last possible second. Brian drew a steady breath while grasping his sword with both hands. His blade flared with a blinding aura as he raised it overhead. With a roar, he cut down from the heavens and towards the gate as a pillar of golden dawn cleaved through the hall.
The ground split apart with a deafening crack as sharp, jagged rocks raced towards the entrance, rushing after the aura slash. Tucker shielded his face with one arm while keeping his sword close. The sheer pressure exerted from the attack nearly blew him back. He leaned forward, fighting against the force as his boots slid across the blood-slick floor.
Through the haze, he watched in anticipation. The attack tore through the enemy soldiers like paper, reducing them to mangled heaps of flesh. But the moment it passed the gate, all the Everheart knights sensed it. Something was on the other side waiting for them. And before the aura slash could cross any further—the attack was destroyed with a single swing, leaving traces of crimson aura lingering in the air.
Tucker felt the icy rain land on his skin. The instinctive dread racing through the Everheart knights was one he empathized with. Before them, numerous silhouettes emerged. Heavily armored silver knights entered the halls with crimson energy shrouding their bodies. As if to hide every trace of humanity within their souls. Banners unfurled through the storm, revealing the sigil of the Empire. The emblems stood proud beneath the dark clouds, and their arrival carried the weight of victory.
Announcing to the world that the true battle had only just begun.