Chapter 33: Night Raid and the First Battle

Iron Harbor City did not implement a curfew tonight. Generally speaking, a city under military defense would order its residents to remain indoors after dark. Conversely, one could deduce that if a city did not enforce a curfew, it gave the impression that the place was undefended.

The sailors of Kalich, accustomed to brutal skirmishes with pirates, were fierce and savage men. They merely wrapped scarves around their faces, eschewed armor, and leaped from their ships, cutlasses drawn. By the early hours of the morning, the streets were empty, save for a few drunkards tossed out of taverns, snoring beside the gutters.

There were no guards. Iron Harbor had no lord to rule it, and naturally, no city watch. It was said that Ryan had brought back many young noble sons from Sea Rock City to serve as squires, but they were mere children who had never tasted battle; they likely had not yet learned how to stand watch.

At this thought, the sailors grew increasingly bloodthirsty, eager to teleport into Blood Keep, sneak into the bedrooms under the cover of night, and slit throats one by one.

They finally reached the perimeter of Blood Keep. Moving cautiously against the walls, cutlasses in hand, they arrived at the main gate only to find it shut. Truth be told, had the gates been standing wide open, they might have felt a spark of suspicion. Seeing them firmly closed, the sailors’ doubts vanished, and they exchanged knowing glances.

The leading boatswain took the grappling hook from his belt. It was a cross-shaped iron claw attached to a rope, used in boarding actions to hook enemy ship rails. He hurled it high into the air, where it caught firmly in the crenellations atop the wall. After pulling on it to ensure it held, he gripped the rope, bit down on his blade's hilt, and began his silent ascent under the cover of darkness.

Reaching the top, he confirmed there were no torch-bearing sentries on the ramparts. He turned back to the men below and gave the rope three sharp tugs. No danger. Soon, the rest of the sailors climbed up. Seeing no guards on the wall, they scoffed—it was indeed a lord ignorant of military affairs, failing to even post patrols at night—and grew increasingly reckless and lax.

The walls of Blood Keep were of a rare double-layered design. Not only was the defensive area on top exceptionally wide, but the interior was honeycombed with hidden guard rooms and firing corridors that interconnected. The sailors climbed onto the wall and quickly moved along the stone steps into the interior guard rooms. They remained empty.

Passing through the guard rooms, they entered a narrow firing corridor. Slits in the wall allowed for arrows or boiling oil to be poured down onto the ground below. The boatswain, leading the way, suddenly felt an ominous premonition. In such narrow, confined passages, once both ends were blocked, even the most skilled warrior would have no room to maneuver.

Just as he thought this, a fully armored young knight appeared at the end of the corridor. The youth wore full leather armor reinforced with iron plating over the chest and abdomen. He held a heavy wooden shield, which he slammed horizontally to seal the passage exit.

The boatswain roared, pushing off the ground with all his might to reach peak charging speed. He threw his shoulder into the shield with a heavy impact. The young knight, his vision obscured by the shield, had not anticipated such overwhelming force; he lost his footing and stumbled back several paces.

A breakthrough! The boatswain seized the gap, squeezed past the shield, and delivered a vicious backhand strike that bit into the young knight’s shoulder, tearing through leather and slicing into flesh. He possessed immense strength and was about to finish the job when his peripheral vision caught several more young knights standing to the side. They all held their shields forward, with the cold glimmer of swords visible through the gaps.

He abandoned the kill, quickly dragging the wounded squire in front of him as a human shield, and roared fiercely, "Back off, or he dies!"

The squires stared in shock, looking at their miserable comrade held hostage. For a moment, they did not know what to do. In that instant of hesitation, more enemies emerged from the corridor behind the boatswain.

"Kill!" someone shouted, snapping the squires out of their shock.

They finally reacted as they had been trained: left hands raised with shields, advancing in a synchronized, disciplined march to push the sailors back with a shield wall, while their right hands thrust their swords through the gaps.

In such a cramped space, flanking the shield wall was impossible. Steel clashed, sparks flew, and blood splattered. There were no screams, only suppressed grunts of pain and the ragged gasps of those struggling in their final moments.

Minutes later, Elina stepped into the room to survey the finished battlefield. She had not commanded the battle, leaving the squires to act on their own. From the choice of the ambush site at the end of the corridor to the young knight's initial mistake and the final bloodbath in the narrow room, she had not intervened until the sailors were slaughtered to the last.

"Report casualties," she said coldly.

The numbers came quickly. Out of thirty-six squires, two were dying, two were crippled by severe wounds, and seven were lightly injured. Even those who were unhurt were near exhaustion; as the adrenaline faded, they could barely hold their swords and shields.

Elina was deeply dissatisfied that an ambush from a superior position had resulted in such a toll. She swept her cold gaze over the dying squires and said icily, "Those of you lying there, someone will come to deal with you. Those who can still fight, follow me."

The remaining squires followed her in silence. Minutes later, Bethalia stepped through the blood-slicked floor, accompanied by several trembling servants. She fed the dying and severely wounded youths a prepared concoction, watched as they quickly fell into a deep slumber, and smiled. "Carry them to Blood Keep."

In the study atop Blood Keep, Ryan received the report of the first skirmish and couldn't help but frown. What was this? Elina, I gave you these squires to train—I even used up the favor you owed me. You trained them for… three days? Four? Regardless, they were your responsibility, and this performance was pathetic!

He stood up and pulled open the cabinet of his bookshelf. Inside sat rows of vials filled with crimson essence of flesh. The elven and orcish varieties were scarce, while the Imperial samples were neatly organized into rows labeled "Southern Empire" and "Northern Empire."

Picking up a vial of Southern Imperial essence, Ryan headed downstairs to the great hall. He looked down at the dying squires, dismissed all the servants, and began his work of reconstruction.