Chapter 1403 - 1317: Bear Castle Restored

Chapter 1403: Chapter 1317: Bear Castle Restored

Whenever the militias continued digging, the Blood Knights would emerge from the bunkers to harass and slaughter the working militias.

As an outstanding graduate of the Holy Alliance Military Academy, Alexei quickly came up with a countermeasure.

You use cavalry, so will I.

Thus, this scene frequently appeared beneath the walls of Fat Cow Castle —

The militias were digging trenches when suddenly the sound of thundering hooves was heard.

Next came the charge of the black-armored Blood Knights, followed by the Cuirassier Cavalry galloping past.

Amidst the sound of guns and cannons, the red and black cavalry clashed fiercely beside the trenches being dug, often led personally by Alexei.

Occasionally there was a chance to see him personally charge into battle, throwing plasma grenades into the bunkers, then leading the charge inside.

This was the last step, he had to risk everything.

Alexei’s heroism was witnessed by all the militias and warlocks, and the fame of Grand Duke Alexander gradually replaced the nickname Alexei.

Like a tightening noose, the trenches and the artillery steadily approached the walls, while the bunkers were eliminated one by one.

In no time, August had arrived, the sun baking the cuirasses to scorching heat, and the siege had already lasted almost a month.

By this time, both the Holy Alliance and the Royal Court had entered the final phase of testing their willpower.

Whoever made fewer mistakes and could endure longer would achieve final victory.

Once autumn arrived and the weather cooled, the vampires’ combat strength would greatly improve, and this battle might come to an end.

By then, regardless of Alexei’s objections, André would have to withdraw all the troops.

Fighting until now, aside from the willpower of the Royal Court’s northern army itself, they relied on the walls of this stronghold, Fat Cow Castle.

During the time of capturing Fat Cow Castle, the vampires had fortified the walls to better suit the age of cannons.

The height was reduced, the walls thickened, transformed into the current rammed earth topped with brick and stone appearance.

André stood at the observation post with binoculars, but his gaze was inevitably stagnant.

Twelve 32-pound cannons had bombarded for half a month, the walls pitted and cracked, yet no breach had been made.

To cover the advance of the trenches, they lost almost two to three hundred militias every day, while the Royal Court’s troops outside kept increasing.

So when Alexei lifted the curtain and entered the command post, André immediately greeted him.

"Sir, would you be willing to gamble?" Over the days of bloody battles, Alexei had become thinner, his cheekbones prominent.

His stubbled beard stained with fresh blood, his pupils shone brightly and terrifyingly.

"How do you propose we gamble?" André pulled over the fortification map, unlike his usual joking manner.

He knew Alexei had ignited like a torch; it was no time for jokes.

It was foreseeable that once Alexei captured Fat Cow Castle, his personal prestige and the idea of the Bear Castle People would reach their peak.

It could almost be said that if Fat Cow Castle were captured now, the King of the Bear Castle Kingdom could only be him.

"When Fat Cow Castle was built, there was a water channel, later sealed for fear of foreign enemies entering through it."

"Wouldn’t the summer tide flood the channel? Do the vampires know about this?"

"The tide would flood the channel, but it can be crossed by swimming, just not with armor." Alexei pointed to a spot on the fortification map, "This channel was sealed eighty years ago; everyone thinks it’s completely blocked, but I know my grandfather cut corners.

My great-grandfather ordered him to seal it, but he only sealed the entrance, using the money he saved to buy drinks, without closing it completely — I read this in his diary."

"Does anyone else know about this?"

"No, only I know about it, and I took the diary with me; it’s now stored in the Saintess Bank of the Holy Mechanism Court."

At the time, Alexei noted this down to prevent any future rebellion by the Dukes, hoping to use it to escape secretly.

But obviously, among the many influential Dukes within the city, those who resisted had their heads severed by the vampires, and those who didn’t became Blood Servants, decapitated by André.

The few remaining ones were still in the city, waiting for Alexei to sever their heads.

A war of destruction and restoration had completely shattered the previous entrenched power network of the Bear Castle Territory.

Pacing for a while, André continued asking, "What if they get into the city?"

"There’s an inside contact in the city who has long been in touch with me."

"Could it be a trap?"

"That’s why I’m asking if you want to gamble."

André grabbed the water bottle, took a big swig, pondered for a long time before speaking: "How many people do you need?"

"I found five hundred people myself, those whose families were exterminated by vampires. I have plenty of such lunatics." Alexei bared his white teeth. "But I need the Divine Favor Seed, pistols, and plasma bombs."

André wrote a note: "I’ll provide you with what you want, but I have only one request."

"What?"

"You must not go yourself."

"Huh?" Alexei waved his hand repeatedly. "You’re really overthinking it; how could I go myself?"

"Don’t think you can fool me. Tonight I’ll sleep in your tent to prevent your fever for battle from acting up and insisting on going with them."

Alexei’s smile froze on his face.

That night, the city was filled with shouts and cries of battle, evidently catching the vampires off guard, as they never expected humans to choose to attack at night.

Citizens inside the city raised Alexei’s flag, and flames soared into the sky.

According to the prearranged plan, with a piercing whistle and the rise of the dazzling sun bullet, soldiers of the Holy Alliance and Norn’s Restoration Army leapt out of the trenches, charging towards the city gates.

The sounds of cannons, gunshots, slaughter — every sound pierced through the ears.

Alexei tossed and turned, causing the wooden bed to squeak noisily.

André listened to the flow of noisy sounds half the night, until the noise gradually subsided around midnight, yet lingered in the distant ether as he finally fell asleep.

The next morning, rising with the early dawn were André, refreshed, and Alexei, who hadn’t slept all night, exiting the tent.

They were both washed up, trimmed their beards, and changed into clean clothes.

Mid-August, the sky was a sea of dawn, cattle and sheep mooed and bleated, driven towards the back kitchen barracks.

Riding side by side to the entrance of the camp, they found people already waiting.

Numerous Bear Castle militias were behind them, with sorcerers, nobles, and citizen representatives at the front standing in neat two rows.

André deliberately took a half step back.

"Your Excellency, you..."

"Alexei, my friend, you go first, this is the honor you deserve."

Passing through the crowd, Alexei appeared as if he hadn’t woken up.

Banners, fences, streams, wooden bridges, trenches, bunkers... countless scenes brushed past his eye, and finally he stopped at the gates of Fat Cow Castle.

The walls were adorned with flags of Alexei and the Holy Alliance, the charred gates reeked of blood despite being washed.

He had fantasized about this scene countless times, fantasized about returning to Fat Cow Castle, the place of his birth and upbringing.

But now that he was truly here, he felt disoriented; is this real? Is this a dream?

"Is it really this easy?" Alexei muttered to himself.

Conversely, Kotyurov, ever the red-faced man, laughed loudly nearby: "If Your Highness thinks this easy, then nothing in the world would be difficult."

Having started traveling various countries in 1453, Alexei went to the Shattered Stone Plain in 1457, recruiting and drilling for battle over five years.

On the borders, countless battles of various scales had occurred; formerly fair-skinned Alexei not only tanned but also acquired many scars.

Moreover, writing "Our Struggle," politics was no easier than the battlefield.

From his initial inexperience, to his later leadership through both diplomacy and conflict, hosting meetings continuously, Alexei became the de facto leader.

And now, having captured Fat Cow Castle, how much blood and sweat had he shed, how many friends and loved ones had he lost?

Ten years had brought how much change?

Alexei gazed at the slowly opening gate, his vision blurred at the edges.

Tears shimmered, yet did not fall.

Blood had flowed enough, tears too had flowed enough.

From leaving home in 1453, to now 1463, ten whole years had passed.

The once familiar Fat Cow Castle, he found himself hardly recognizing it, those layered red houses, eight-sided-towered church, and emaciated serfs.

The gate slowly opened, yet Alexei did not rush in; instead, he turned his horse around to look at the Restoration Army, the White Scar Battle Group, those Bear Castle militias.

Snatching the banner from the standard-bearer, Alexei raised it high with one hand: "Let’s go, let’s go, I’ll lead you home, we’re home now!"

Cheers and cries sounded in unison as they thronged around Alexei, moving into Fat Cow Castle.

Everything had changed, yet it seemed nothing had.

But undeniably, this would herald a new era.