Early in the morning, the sun peeked out of the snowy mountains outside Audis. A glimmer of light accompanied by a biting cold wind blew. The ruins of the city that had been burning all night were finally burnt to ashes and extinguished.
The Shalorian king, contrary to his decadent state in the previous month, ordered the remaining maids and guards in the palace to help him change his clothes. The gorgeous royal robe, the heavy crown, and the exquisite cane made the king feel as if he had returned to his youth. At that time, he was so high-spirited and wanted to do something big.
However, the reality was far from what he had imagined when he was young.
Most of the maids and guards in the palace had escaped last night. Although the Imperial Guards were doing their best to stop the escapes, the situation did not improve. Even within the Imperial Guards, there were people escaping.
The palace guards were different from the imperial guards. Many of them were nobles, and most of them were sent in by the elders of their families to gain experience. At this time, who would still want to stay here and die?
The Imperial Guards had long since been corrupted to the core. It was just that they had been cleansed of their appearance by others.
"Forget it. If they want to escape, let them escape." In the end, it was the Shalorian king who spoke. The old king had been utterly defeated. He used to naively think that Audis could stop the Faustians' attack with its sturdy walls.
Even after a week of battles, he thought that the Faustians were just so-so.
However, after just one night of all-out attacks, the guards of Audis collapsed instantly like a broken dam. Not only did they shatter the last defense of Audis, but they also shattered the ambitious heart of the Shalorian king.
The maids and servants in the palace could run if they wanted to. The king didn't care anymore. After all, these people were also Shalorian people, and the old king didn't want to see them die with him.
Yes, they would die with him. The king had decided to live and die with Shalor.
There was still a teleportation portal in the palace that the Yellow and White Warlock, Master Maris, had spent countless precious materials to make. It could teleport 10 people to an area 20 kilometres away at a time. With enough energy crystals, it could be operated five times a day. If the king wanted to leave, no one could stop him.
The Faustian casters weren't powerful enough to interfere with long-distance teleportation.
It had to be said that in the field of alchemy, Maris of Shalor had surpassed his mentor, Kareda, the guardian of Shalor and a Magister.
In fact, as early as when the Faustian army began to besiege the city, the Shalorian royals had already retreated in an orderly manner. Because there were few people teleporting, the magical waves were deliberately concealed, so the Faustians hadn't noticed.
Just last night, the Shalorian king told his eldest son, the crown prince of Shalor, and watched his son disappear into the portal with his own eyes.
"Your Majesty, Marquis Philip requests an audience." A general hurried into the palace hall and reported to the king.
When the city was breached, the King already knew that Marquis Felippe had formed an escape convoy, but this time he did not stop him. He believed that Marquis Felippe had done enough. From this point of view, the Shalorian king was a rare wise monarch who didn't want everyone to die with him.
The king was a little surprised that Marquis Felippe had not left, but entered the palace at this time. "Pass!"
After the general received the order, he hurriedly retreated. The Faustian army was just outside the palace, and some places had already begun to besiege them. As a general, he was extremely busy now.
Not long after, Felippe strode into the palace.
"Your Majesty!" Felippe, dressed in a marquis robe, walked into the hall with a majestic gait. Like the Shalorian king, he was now also wearing a brand new official robe.
"I didn't expect that in the end, it would be an old friend of mine," sighed the Shalorian king.
One of the three pillars of Shalor, Margrave Clark, was only thirty years old, but he was already known as the 'god of war'. Margrave Campbell was the illegitimate son of the Shalorian king. Only Felippe was, strictly speaking, the king's peer. Both of them were in their fifties.
Felippe didn't say much. He proved his determination with his actions.
"Let's go! Follow me to meet the enemy! " After the old Shalorian king laughed, he waved his scepter boldly and walked out of the palace. Apart from Felippe, there were only a few young nobles and Shalorian generals following behind him.
Outside the palace, Kenzir rode his warhorse and was surrounded by a crowd of nobles and generals, like stars surrounding the moon. Looking at the bright eaves of the Shalorian palace, Kenzir was full of vigor.
"Margrave Marmen, how's the situation in the city now?" Kenzir waved his horsewhip and asked Marmen with a smile.
"The resistance everywhere is not very fierce and has been suppressed. Now only the palace has not been completely captured, but some areas have been breached," replied Marmen.
"Margrave Shia, how's the progress of Gale?" Kenzir asked Shia on the other side.
Because Gale was the last to participate in the battle, their losses were the lowest among the three major corps. The main force of the attack on the palace was the soldiers of Gale.
"The main gate has been captured, and all the side gates have been surrounded. Now the soldiers are attacking the front gate of the palace hall," replied Shia.
The palace hall was generally a place where the king and the nobles discussed matters. Once the front gate was captured, it could be said that the Shalorian palace was completely open to the Faustian soldiers.
"Come, let's go to the front gate!" Kenzir patted his warhorse and led the generals to the front gate. He wanted to see the destruction of the Kingdom of Shalor with his own eyes. He wanted to personally plant the Faustian flag on top of the Shalorian palace.
It was now the end of the decisive battle between the two countries. Almost all the senior officers of the Faustian military had gathered on both sides of Kenzir. A group of people galloped towards the Shalorian palace.
When the Shalorian king walked to the front gate of the palace, the remaining Shalorian defenders were fighting a bloody battle with the Faustian soldiers who had attacked the city. Although there was a huge disparity in numbers, the remnants of the Shalorian army were extremely fierce. They were the only elites left in Shalor.
As the saying goes, two fists are no match for four hands. Although the Shalorian defenders resisted fiercely, they could only helplessly be drowned by the sea of Faustian soldiers who outnumbered them by dozens of times.
As soon as the Shalorian king approached the front gate, he saw a crowd of countless Faustian soldiers, splitting and crushing the stubborn Shalorian soldiers.
Just as these Shalorian soldiers were about to be swallowed up by the Faustians, someone shouted, "His Majesty is here!"
These Shalorian soldiers turned around abruptly and saw that their king was really so close to them.
The soldiers, who were already exhausted, felt a surge of blood in their chests again as they forcibly blocked the attack of the Faustian soldiers.
"Block them! His Majesty is just behind us!"
"We must block these bastards and protect His Majesty!"
"Hold on!"
Every Shalorian soldier who was still standing at the top of the city wall burst into endless fighting spirit.
When the guards and generals around the king saw this, they also drew their swords and rushed to the top of the city wall to resist the Faustians together with the soldiers.
Although their numbers were far from enough compared to the Faustian soldiers, it was this small number of people and the king himself that gave the Shalorian soldiers a shot in the arm.
Similarly, when the Faustian soldiers saw the old man wearing a gorgeous yellow robe, a crown, and holding a scepter, how could they not guess his identity?
One by one, they stretched their necks, raised their spears, and brandished their swords as they rushed to the top of the city wall. Looking at their imposing manner, they were not much weaker than the Shalorian defenders.
Military merit in the Faustian army was directly linked to one's own kills. The more enemies you killed, the higher the enemy's rank or status, the more military merit you would obtain.
The Faustian higher-ups had not announced the reward for the Shalorian king's military merit, but a recent count's head was exchanged for 1,000 points of military merit.
1,000 points, even if it was converted to the cheapest currency, it was still 1,000 gold Derahls. The king's head was worth more than a count's. That was what every Faustian soldier thought.
"I want that old man's head!" Shouted a fierce-looking Faustian man while waving his giant axe. He seemed to be a platoon jarl.
Before he finished speaking, a fine iron arrow pierced the man's face. Bang! The man fell to the ground.
There were still many capable soldiers in the Shalorian army. Not to mention, there were several mid-rank Knechts among them. The Shalorian king's head wasn't that easy to take.
But this trivial danger could not stop the enthusiasm of the Faustian soldiers.
The fallen man's body was only used as a stepping stone for the following soldiers. More Faustian soldiers rushed to the front gate of the city towards the Shalorian king.
"He's mine!"
"Don't let him get away!"
"Go after him, go after him!"
"Over there, he's over there!"
"....."
Most of the Faustian soldiers fighting here were regular corps of the three major corps, and there were very few nobles' private armies mixed in.
These regular soldiers were different from Locke and the others, who were essentially private troops belonging to the nobles. They could earn extra money from time to time.
Although the regular corps soldiers were better equipped and received better treatment, they were better equipped. Now that they saw the Shalorian king, every Faustian soldier wanted to take the lead.
The Faustian soldiers' frenzy broke the defense of the front gate of the palace in no time. Once the front gate was broken, there was nothing in the palace that could hold their ground.
Behind the front gate was a wide square. On weekdays, the Shalorian nobles and ministers would pass through this square to leave the palace. The place where they used to chat and laugh with their colleagues was now covered in blood and broken limbs.
Behind the front door was a wide square. Shalorian nobles and ministers usually passed through this square to leave the palace after leaving court. The place where they used to chat and laugh with their colleagues was now covered in blood and broken limbs.
Countless Faustian soldiers surrounded the remaining Shalorian soldiers, and the current Shalorian king stood in the center of the encirclement.
The king's gorgeous robe was stained with a little blood, and the crown of thorns on his head had tilted a lot in the chaos. Although he was in a sorry state, the king still retained his basic demeanor.
Felippe stood behind the king with a longsword in his hand. He was also wearing a thin golden silkworm armour under his robe. It was this silkworm armour that saved his life.
Felippe, a high-rank Knecht, had been targeted by many masters of the Faustian army. The scratch on his back from his neck to his left waist was proof of that.