Chapter 609: Breakthrough and Siege

Berk Loren walked step by step along the path leading to the inner city’s castle district. Sharp stings from several small wounds on his body kept pricking his already exhausted mind, forcing him to stay alert.

The fog had thinned, but the lingering stench of blood still hung heavy in the air. Suspicious shadows flickered nearby, and footsteps echoed from the depths of the surrounding alleys. Every shadow, every sound could be a lurking monster—some fully transformed, others in the process. No matter what, Berk couldn’t afford to take any risks.

That voice still echoed in his mind:

“To become like this… to live by eating stones… my lord.”

For that reason alone, a person could willingly become a monster.

At that moment, the young marquis suddenly recalled a line from a report he had once read:

”…The region has been taxed six times; households are empty, even the leaves have been eaten; the number of starving people…”

It had once been just a line of description, a few numbers. He had found it shocking, but only in an abstract way.

Now, he finally saw with his own eyes what that “world” truly looked like.

Unbelievably, that “world” was separated from his own by nothing more than a city wall, a single castle.

He finally understood why the prince’s decrees were so difficult to enforce, why the noble lords could never be relied upon.

Those living inside the castle could never imagine what the world outside looked like.

Berk lifted his head and saw the main gate of Solinburg right before him. The drawbridge was down, but no guards were in sight.

A wave of indescribable unease surged through him. He quickened his pace.

Gripping his longsword tightly, he crossed the drawbridge, passed through the empty courtyard and barracks, and pushed open the main gate of the keep, which was left slightly ajar. Inside, the first-floor hall was just as deserted.

No sign of life met his eyes, but the pervasive stench of blood was everywhere. The hall bore the scars of battle—blood stains, shattered crystal clusters scattered about.

This wasn’t an external invasion; the fighting had erupted from within. The guards had resisted briefly but had quickly ceased fighting…

Berk pieced together these grim conclusions from the scene, all while moving swiftly, guided by memory, racing up to the second floor, to the castle’s main hall.

The hall’s doors stood wide open, but no guards were present. In the center stood the sight Berk dreaded most.

A tall figure clad in black armor.

Edmund Morn heard the noise at the door and turned his head. Berk’s eyes met a face overtaken by crystalline growths, a grotesque symbiosis of flesh and crystal.

His heart skipped a beat, but he immediately drew his sword, ready for battle. Yet he soon realized Edmund’s gaze was not completely lost to madness. Within those nearly crystallized eyes still flickered a faint glimmer of human reason.

Cautiously, Berk stepped forward. “Your Highness—can you hear me?”

Edmund stared intently, his body trembling slightly, as if two wills were battling for control. A hoarse voice emerged from his throat: “Kill me. Do it now.”

The terrifying command stunned Berk for a moment, but he quickly regained composure and made the coldest decision.

Raising his longsword, he stepped forward decisively. “Yes, Your Highness.”

A phantom, scorching flame ignited along the blade. Knowing the prince’s formidable power, Berk poured all his magic into this strike. With a sharp whistle through the air, his sword lunged toward Edmund’s heart.

But just centimeters from the target, Edmund’s left hand shot up. His palm, encrusted with crystal clusters, grasped the blazing adamantine blade. Sparks and blinding flashes erupted between sword and hand, accompanied by a grating screech. Berk’s sword could not advance another inch.

Their eyes locked on the tense moment. Then Edmund lifted his head and uttered a single word: “Run.”

Berk instantly released his grip, without hesitation. He dashed toward the side of the hall, leapt through a window, and vaulted out of the castle.

In a shadowed corner of the hall, a tangle of twisting vines writhed slowly. With a faint rustle, they retracted into the darkness.

…

To the west of the Great Wood Pass, between Giantstone City and the White Pine region—lands under royal control—the thick fog had completely lifted.

The mist had left the cities and villages behind, but where it had touched, people had turned into monsters.

Countless grotesque giants, fused from flesh and crystal clusters, were gathering, spreading like wildfire. Wherever there had once been human habitation, terrifying crystal armies now amassed. Cloaked in black robes, these towering figures commanded the legions. Under their leadership, the crystal giants had seized every village and town within hours, now advancing toward the kingdom’s military garrisons.

One of the kingdom’s key strongholds, Giantstone City, was under siege. Renowned for its massive stone walls, the city faced its greatest trial in history.

“Hold the line! Hold the line! Shieldbearers—stand firm!”

“We need more oil! More stone projectiles!”

“The battle mages are drained—bring the catapults up! The Royal Guard mages are almost here!”

Flaming oil sacks and rune-etched stones soared through the air from the battlements. Massive crossbow bolts thundered as they sliced through the sky, striking the heart of the “crystal tide.” Knights and noble officers dashed along the walls, shouting orders hoarsely, casting spells to reinforce the walls and rally the soldiers’ flagging morale.

Yet beneath the walls, the monsters only grew in number.

This was the crystal army formed from the entire region’s transformed population. Against such overwhelming numbers, mere stone projectiles and oil, even the mages’ fireballs and lightning, were feeble. Their attacks on the monsters were like tossing pebbles into the ocean—barely causing a ripple.

A noble officer clad in dark blue armor, a sash draped over his shoulder, stood atop the wall, watching the ever-growing horde of crystal monsters approach. These creatures fought not only with brute strength but wielded terrifying magical powers—powerful arcane lightning erupted repeatedly from the densest clusters. Each bolt left a jagged crack in the city walls or felled a group of soldiers. If this continued, the city’s fall was only a matter of time.

“How much oil and stone ammunition do we have left?” the officer asked a nearby knight lieutenant.

“Enough to hold for two days, sir, but it won’t be enough—the monsters keep coming, and there are countless more behind them!”

Oil was the most effective weapon against these creatures, but the catapults’ flaming sacks couldn’t stem the tidal wave of attacks. The mages capable of sustained large-scale fire spells were too few and already drained of magic.

The noble officer’s face darkened. Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the western wall, followed by screams and chaos.

Soldiers on the brink of collapse panicked. From the attacked sector, the defenders began to falter and retreat.

Battle officers rushed forward, using morale-boosting tactics to hold the line. Under the influence of extraordinary powers, adrenaline, and nerves, the soldiers returned to the walls. But their eyes were bloodshot, their movements unsteady—their minds rapidly unraveling. Whether they could operate the catapults even a few more times was uncertain.

More terrifyingly, even the knights overseeing them showed signs of wavering.

These were the kingdom’s elite troops, capable of fighting the powerful Eastern knights head-on for an entire day. But that was a war against humans. Now, they faced monsters.

This was beyond the limits of human will.

Another knight lieutenant hurried up the wall, panic etched on his face. His voice trembled: “Sir, it’s confirmed—many of the monsters wear fragments of armor and clothing from the Third, Fifth, and Sixth Knight Regiments and kingdom soldiers. They… they’re our transformed troops!”

The noble officer’s eyes widened. “How many know this?”

“All the city’s defenders have seen it…”

It was over.

The knight regiments and conscripted troops stationed along the Great Wood Pass’s north-south line were lost. This city would soon fall.

Before the officer could sigh, a nightmare shout rang out from afar:

“Count Solin has fallen in battle!”

After a brief moment of stunned silence, the officer’s eyes snapped wide, searching for the foolhardy messenger shouting such news at the front lines. But he quickly realized the voice came from beneath the walls, from among the monsters.

A mutilated corpse was hurled into the air by the creatures. Count Solin’s head, eyes wide in death’s final defiance, came into view of the defenders.

In the end, the count failed to reclaim his lands and castle.

The defensive line on the walls visibly began to crumble, retreating in large gaps and voids. The defenders were caught in an irreversible rout, and the battle officers no longer had the strength to reorganize the line.

Because even the knights’ morale had collapsed.

Dozens of massive arcane lightning bolts struck the walls simultaneously, accompanied by continuous explosions. The grand stone walls shook violently, as if they might collapse at any moment.

This city was no longer defensible.

The moment the noble officer realized this, sharp howls pierced the sky. Along with the cries, vast shadows rapidly spread across the heavens—

Countless ice spikes and roaring winds swept the battlefield, as if the just-ended winter had returned. Amid the sudden ice storm, a new frozen barrier quickly formed before the walls, pinning hundreds of monsters to the icy cliff face.

But in the next moment, the ice wall came under relentless assault. About half of the monsters nailed to the ice began to struggle free—wounds that would be fatal to ordinary humans could not kill them completely.

With cracking sounds, the entire ice wall rapidly fractured.

A commanding female voice rang out from above, echoing across the battlefield:

“Mountain troops, cover our rear! Royal Knights and the Guard bring the civilians—break out to the northwest!”

It was the voice of Duchess Victoria Wilde.

The knight’s adjutant whispered urgently beside him, “Sir, it’s an order to retreat.”

The noble officer cast a glance at the nearly shattered defensive line, then drew a deep breath.

“Retreat!!”

On the 12th day of the Revival Month, year 738 of Ansu, the kingdom’s largest fortress on the Holy Spirit Plains—Giantstone Castle—fell.

A massive legion of crystal cluster giants began spreading toward the city of Saint Suniel.

…

Several days later, having just crossed the Pompey region and advancing north along the east bank of the Dorgon River, Solderin and his Iron Rangers encountered an enemy unlike any they had seen before.

Tall, humanoid figures seemingly infected by some kind of crystalline parasite.

The scorched earth still reeked of burnt flesh and smoke. Charred corpses lay piled alongside scattered crystal clusters within firing range. Fully armored soldiers kept watch on the perimeter, while Solderin and a few Iron Rangers inspected the strange bodies on the battlefield.

The senior ranger furrowed his brow.

What was happening in the North?

(End of chapter)