The battle was chaos. Moonlight was the only source of illumination, allowing the soldiers to see only a few meters ahead. The first and second lines of the city's army were composed of spearmen with shields, while the third row held swordsmen. Behind them, the archers fired everything they had.
The invaders, caught off guard, woke the moment the city gates opened. The sentinels had barely spotted the advancing soldiers, giving the Swabians just enough time to prepare for the confrontation.
The enemy wielded hatchets and shields, with a frontline of spearmen to impale anyone foolish enough to charge them. But they were at a disadvantage. Sleep-deprived, cold, hungry, and with low morale, the Swabians struggled against a well-prepared enemy.
Even though both armies had similar numbers, it felt to the Swabians as though they were being overrun. The two forces collided, drenching the ground in blood.
As the death toll approached a thousand, the attackers fell back to the city. Reinforcements had arrived. The Swabians seized the opportunity and attempted another invasion, this time aiming to scale the walls with ladders and break through the gate.
On the opposite side of the city, a similar struggle unfolded. Boiling water or oil was poured down onto the Swabians, their screams piercing the night.
Amid the chaos, the city defenders managed to set up their giant crossbow, finally unleashing it on the invaders. Its bolts tore through armor and bodies alike, leaving carnage in their wake.
At the back, a burly, bearded Swabian commander observed the battle, issuing commands as needed. He knew they had pushed the city to its limit.
"Sir! Enemy troops have left the western gate and are heading this way!" A scout on horseback arrived, breathless.
"How many?" the commander asked, his brow furrowed.
"I couldn't count exactly, but it's a considerable force."
The commander paused, considering. "Tell the right wing to fall back and form ranks."
As Swabian soldiers pulled back from the walls and formed up, another scout arrived.
"Commander! A large force is advancing from the east gate!" The soldiers nearby exchanged uneasy glances. They were now surrounded on three sides, with only half their army to hold the line.
Was it a mistake to split the forces? the commander wondered. He was caught in a pincer attack, and retreat seemed like the only option.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke. "Everyone retreat! Carry the wounded who can be moved and leave the rest. You—" he pointed to the second scout, "warn the rest of our men at the other gates. We'll regroup at the last city we captured."
The retreat was messy. As Swabian troops withdrew, they were harassed from both sides, with the city soldiers closing in at the last moment. The Swabians barely reached the forest, breaking off the engagement to flee.
Half of their forces retreated with fewer casualties, but the battle had turned into a rout. Even from a distance, they could still hear the city's victory cheers.
As the first rays of light crept over the horizon, the entire city rejoiced. The ground outside the walls was littered with thousands of bodies, most of them Swabians.
"My people! Our suffering has ended—for now!" Edwin stood atop the city walls, addressing the crowd below. The people cheered at every word. "We have driven out the savages from the west and reclaimed our lands!"
The city roared in celebration. As the gates opened, the peasants rushed out to reclaim their homes, fields, and belongings. Hunger was their first concern, so they wasted no time.
Over the next few days, the fields were cleared and prepared for the next crop. The dead were stripped of armor and weapons before being burned. Fallen city soldiers were given proper burials, with priests and clergy offering blessings for their eternal rest.
Despite the victory, a small cloud lingered over the city: the high-profile criminal, still hiding somewhere in Fritsburg, had been all but forgotten in the chaos.
It had been ten days since Rafael began training with Eleonor, also known as "The Eagle" and Maxis' right hand, though not many knew that last part. Eleonor had trained Rafael for only three days before duty called him back to the castle, leaving behind a rigorous list of tasks for Rafael to practice.
Seeing that Rafael's physique was already in peak condition, Eleonor skipped the physical training and went straight to combat lessons. They started with unarmed combat, and Rafael lost every match—partly because his mind was still haunted by those he had killed, and partly because he had no experience or technique.
Determined, Rafael meditated every day, trying to come to terms with the weight of his actions. Eleonor assured him that time would heal his mind. He reminded Rafael that if he hadn't acted, it would have been his own life taken.
"You won't move on to the next stage until you beat me in unarmed combat," Eleonor had said.
Rafael trained relentlessly, practicing moves and techniques with a guard from the mansion. Over time, he became stronger and more confident. In the meantime, he also helped Maxis with a few projects, including producing paper, designing a metallic distiller, and revolutionizing local fashion by introducing buttons, underwear, and socks.
Maxis marveled at the simplicity and practicality of these new inventions, especially the buttons, which transformed clothing. His shop was an instant success, even during the siege.
Hours before the attack, as Rafael returned from fetching food, he ran into Maxis in the hall.
"How's everything going?" Rafael asked, munching on his meal.
"Smoothly. The shop is selling like crazy, and the paper workshop should be finished by the end of the month," Maxis replied, a satisfied grin on his face. "Oh, and I have news: Edwin is launching an attack tonight. They're using that giant crossbow you designed."
Rafael's eyes widened. "Really? I hope we win this battle."
"We will. If not, well, it'll be over for the kingdom." Maxis chuckled, though his words carried a weight of truth.
Back in his room, Rafael found Ella writing a letter.
"Hey, I'm back," he said, setting his food down on the table.
"I'm writing to Mother and the others. I miss them," she replied without looking up.
"They're probably doing well, given all the inventions I sent their way. I bet they're the center of attention right now."
Ella smiled but didn't look convinced. "Sometimes attention brings trouble."
The two chatted idly as they ate, the room warm and cozy despite the cold outside. Rafael couldn't shake the anticipation of the upcoming battle, but he focused on the present, enjoying the quiet moment.
The next morning, Eleonor arrived and promptly challenged Rafael to another match. Ella and Maxis followed them to the training grounds, curious to see if Rafael had improved.
This time, Rafael fought with precision and strength, using everything he had learned. To everyone's surprise, including his own, he managed to knock Eleonor down.
"I can't believe it... He beat Eleonor," Maxis muttered in awe.
"Well, well. You win," Eleonor said with a chuckle as he stood up. "You've become quite the fighter."
Rafael's victory was met with cheers and applause from Maxis, Ella, and even Eleonor himself.