The world around Leonard roared with fury and fire as the revolutionary airship continued its relentless assault. He stood as a sentinel, immovable amid the chaos, his crimson cloak billowing in the winds of war. The airship hovered like a mechanical beast in the skies above, belching flames and steel in continuous waves.

  For five long minutes, the bombardment crashed against Hassel's ancient wards. Each impact sent ripples of energy cascading across the shimmering barrier, illuminating the city's districts in bursts of blinding light. The air vibrated with the unleashed power, and even Leonard, accustomed to the raw devastation of war, felt surprised as the earth trembled beneath his boots.

  The sound was deafening. Cannon after cannon roared as if the heavens themselves were breaking apart. The main attack, a spear of concentrated energy, lanced into the wards repeatedly, further weakening them with each strike.

  After days of stress and lacking the infinite reserve of a leyline, the wards ultimately failed with a deafening roar.

  A shockwave erupted as the magical barriers fell in a dazzling burst of energy; the backlash of centuries-old enchantments unraveled in an instant. Dust and debris surged like a tidal wave, washing over the battlefield. The force of it could have crushed any ordinary man, but the protections around the camp held firm, as they had known in advance to prepare for this moment.

  Leonard allowed his power to flow, radiating calm amidst the storm. He watched as the cloud of dust swirled around the shields until it finally settled, revealing the walls of Hassel—mighty and unyielding, but now exposed for the first time in centuries.

  No longer protected. No longer untouchable.

  It was a bittersweet moment. He had lost good friends protecting them.

  I’d like to believe they would understand. The people I fought alongside sacrificed their lives to give everyone a better future. I’m simply taking that ideal to its natural conclusion.

  He turned and raised his voice, reaching the furthest ranks. "Prepare yourselves!"

  The soldiers stirred, eager for what was about to unfold. Lines tightened, and weapons were prepared. A hum of anticipation rippled through the ranks as mages, blazing with arcane power, stepped forward.

  "Now!"

  The mage corps sprang into action, and their combined might surged forward in a hail of devastation. Fireballs soared through the air, leaving blazing trails as they crashed against the walls. Lightning bolts erupted, hitting their targets with remarkable accuracy. Massive stones shattered, and the few remaining defenders—whether brave or reckless—were swept away by the onslaught of elemental fury.

  Though reinforced with steel and layers of enchantments, the gates of Hassel stood no chance. They crumbled into a pile of smoldering rubble under the relentless barrage, and a gaping breach opened in the city's defenses.

  Leonard descended the podium in a fluid jump, containing his presence so that it felt like a heavy blanket as he strode toward his warhorse. The massive beast pawed at the ground impatiently, as if sensing the significance of what was to come.

  He mounted with a smooth leap, his golden aura spreading over the stallion. He drew Dyeus, which sang with pure joy at the prospect of purging anyone who dared to stand against the Chosen. The blade had gradually become more active as the battles shifted from easily overcoming small towns to confronting more formidable foes. It had yet to awaken fully, but Leonard didn't begrudge it. No one in Hetnia could provide a challenge like the Incarnation of the Void had.

  "With me!" he shouted.

  The cavalry burst into action, surging forward behind him in tight formations. Throughout the campaign, their already formidable steeds had become even more impressive, transforming into moving behemoths weighing up to half a ton. Spells at the Journeyman tier and mere gunfire failed to deter them, and they could cover a mile in mere seconds. Although it was costly to keep them fed and cared for, a well-trained cavalry still held value in a world dominated by guns and spells for good reason.

  As they charged, the earth trembled under the weight of the thunderous beat of hooves and the thousands of boots that followed. Leonard stood as a beacon at the forefront, drawing attention to himself in case anyone was foolish enough to maintain their position.

  The mages' bombardment continued as they advanced, scouring the walls for any remaining defenders.

  The path ahead was littered with debris and shattered stone, but it was devoid of threats. Once a symbol of Hassel's impenetrable might, the main gate lay in ruins, reduced to a pile of charred rubble.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  As they drew near, Leonard sent a spark of light into the air, and the bombardment came to a halt. Silence fell, broken only by the heavy breathing of soldiers and the distant cries from within the city.

  It will take some time to reconstitute the wards after Hassel is ours, especially since the leyline will need to recover completely before it can be tapped into. However, I don’t believe the Royal Army will hasten their progress any more than they already have. If they had wanted to, they could have been here by now, which means they want me to take Hassel and have an excuse to purge the entire region. We’ll see if it goes that way.

  The walls continued to crumble around Leonard as he led his soldiers deeper into the city. The air was thick with smoke and dust, the acrid stench of war seeping into every breath. Buildings flanked the cobbled streets, their darkened windows watching the invading force like the hollow eyes of the dead. Leonard's golden aura cast a warm light on the fierce faces of the men marching behind him.

  He turned in his saddle to address his commanders, who rode closely behind him. "The time has come. You know your orders."

  Thanks to Amelia's meticulous months of scouting, each unit had been thoroughly briefed on its objectives. Her shadows had mapped every street, every chokepoint, and every strategic resource within the city. This assault would not be a blind rush. Leonard wanted a calculated strike and had designed it to decisively break Hassel's resistance. The less time they spent fighting, the fewer civilians would die.

  When only the men selected to lead the main thrust with him remained, he urged his steed forward.

  Before them stood a stout, imposing structure—the Royal Army barracks, its stone walls weathered yet steadfast, having survived the devastating bombardment only due to its distance from the wall. The banners of Haylich fluttered defiantly in the wind, and through the narrow arrow slits, the gleam of weapons could be seen.

  Leonard raised his hand, halting his men. "Hold here."

  The soldiers obeyed instantly, forming a disciplined line as they waited for his command. Leonard dismounted, his boots crunching on the rubble-strewn ground. He approached the barracks with measured steps, deliberately keeping his sword sheathed at his side. He had nothing to fear from the men within. Even if anyone were stupid enough to attack him, they'd only tire themselves further.

  "Show yourself," he called out, his voice ringing in the stillness.

  For a moment, there was only silence, and he nearly thought he'd have to drag them out personally. Then, a man appeared atop the battlements, dressed in the polished armor of a Royal Army officer. His weathered face bore a grim determination, and his sword hummed with a skill—an Expert, likely the Captain, judging by the emblem on his chest. Soon after, he was accompanied by a few dozen men, all dirty and with hooded eyes.

  Leonard inclined his head slightly, a gesture of respect. "I am Leonard Weiss, Grand Marshal of the Revolution. By my command, the mighty walls of Hassel have been breached. Surrender now, and I give you my word that you and your men will not be harmed."

  A murmur spread among the ranks of defenders, but the officer silenced them with a raised hand. He glared down at Leonard, his expression unyielding. "We know who you are, Weiss," he spat. "The Great Traitor who has turned against his own people, leading a mob of brigands and slaves to pillage and murder."

  Leonard's jaw tightened, yet his voice remained calm. "You've been lied to. I fight not to destroy but to build—a new world where everyone is free, where none suffer under the yoke of oppression. Look around you. Your walls have fallen, and your defenses are shattered. Hassel is lost. There is no need for further bloodshed."

  The officer laughed bitterly. "Spare me your lies. We've heard the stories—your men butcher families, burn villages, and hand the innocent over to slaves to do as they please. Is that your idea of freedom?"

  Leonard would have dearly liked to strike the lying cur, but he forced himself to remain calm. "Those stories are nothing but propaganda. Look at me. Look at the men behind me. Do we appear to be savages to you?"

  The officer's gaze swept over the assembled soldiers, but his expression remained unchanged. "It doesn't matter. We are men of Haylich, and we will die like men of Haylich—with weapons in our hands and honor in our hearts."

  Leonard closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling slowly. He had hoped to avoid this.

  "Very well," he said, opening his eyes. "You've made your choice."

  He turned back to his men. "Prepare to seize the barracks. Do not waste time, but spare those who do not raise their weapons."

  The soldiers moved into position, still softly glowing with the power he had granted them. Leonard drew his sword, and this time, Dyeus shimmered with anger.

  "On my command," he said.

  The defenders unleashed the first volley, with bullets and elemental bolts raining down from the battlements. Leonard raised his hand, and a barrier of golden light shimmered into existence, harmlessly absorbing the projectiles.

  "Forward!" he shouted.

  The revolutionaries surged toward the barracks, shields raised and spells flying. Fire and lightning clashed against stone, and the explosions shook the ground beneath their feet. Leonard charged at the forefront, cutting down any enemy who dared to stand in his way.

  The defenders fought with the desperation of men who knew they were doomed. They hurled themselves at the revolutionaries without restraint, abandoning any notions of order once their planned assault had failed. Yet, against Leonard's might and the discipline of his soldiers, they stood little chance.

  Leonard cut down those who opposed him while leaving the wounded behind for his men to secure. If they didn't bleed out, they would be given another chance to live a meaningful life.

  Within minutes, the barracks were breached. Revolutionaries poured into the building, obliterating any who attempted to resist. The defenders fought valiantly, but the tide was unstoppable.

  As Leonard made to step into the shattered remains of the barracks' main hall, the officer who had spoken to him earlier rushed forward, raising his sword in a final, desperate charge.

  Leonard met him head-on, parrying the strike and sending the man's weapon clattering to the ground. He stared into the officer's eyes, seeing defiance and despair in equal measure.

  "It's over," he said quietly.

  The man yelled incoherently, charging at him with wild eyes. Dyeus swung, and his head toppled.

  Leonard turned to his men. "Secure the survivors. Treat the wounded. And make sure this place is clear. I want to use it as a forward base until we secure the closest guild building."

  The soldiers moved quickly, pulling the broken men away.

  Stepping back outside, Leonard let the sounds of the city wash over him. As he expected, the resistance was far less than it should have been. Although the psychological toll of losing the wards would be significant, as evidenced by the men he had just fought, there should have been tens of thousands of soldiers ready to push him out.

  That they weren't here meant Pollus was prepared to go all the way.

  Leonard would grant him his wish.