Chapter 1766 - 493: The Impregnable Fortress Collapses at Dawn

The air before dawn still carried the chill of the night, yet colder than the dawn itself were the Campbell people's bodies lying ever more stiff on both sides of the city wall.

On the slope to the west of Glanston Castle, the ragged earthen mounds looked like a tablecloth blackened by gunpowder and iron splinters, with no trace of field ridges left to be seen.

One smoothbore cannon after another was neatly arrayed like the tea set on a Prince's table, the space between the gun positions filled with the scent of damp soil and gun smoke.

In that cold, humid silence, Sir Wesley, reeking of earth, was standing with the artillery unit he favored most.

This was, besides the "Oblique Tactics," another masterpiece he had offered to Duke Edward—"Concentrated Superior Firepower."

In past battles, Campbell artillery had only served as cover for the troops in front, or as a supplement to the frontline firepower. And to prevent their own cannons from being wiped out in one stroke by enemy Transcendents, traditional Commanders would rarely place artillery too close to strategic formations like the Mage Group.

But he was different.

Sir Wesley had developed a set of tactics with artillery as the core: first establishing artillery positions, then having Elite mobile forces protect the guns.

All his tactics revolved around a single core—concentrating superior firepower to completely crush the enemy's organizational core!

To this end, he had deployed all artillery on the west side of the castle and prepared seven days' worth of ammunition at the front line, intending to expend it all in a single battle.

In a sense, his tactics were even ahead of the Imperial Army, for the Empire still mainly relied on the Strength of the Mage Group and the Griffin Knights, both branches that required long years of training. As for the Empire's artillery, whether it could play a primary role still depended on whether the naval guns could reach the target.

"Calibrate your cannons!"

Sir Wesley's voice was calm, with almost no trace of tension, just as when he drilled this unit in normal times.

"I need you to fire at the same time. Do not give our enemies the slightest chance to breathe. Do not allow them the delusion that they can hold out to the end—I don't want to see a single stray shot! I don't want that ugly banner to see tomorrow's sun!"

The order was passed down layer by layer.

The Centurion commanding the artillery crew moved as though facing a mortal enemy, running back and forth under Sir Wesley's gaze, directing the Deputy Officers to adjust their bearings.

The Campbell gunners loaded one black iron shot after another into the long smoothbore barrels; the grating scrape of rammers against metal was the first sound to tear through the silence of the morning fog.

In the distance, the towering west wall of Glanston Castle loomed faintly in the mist, like a great beast slowly waking.

The Campbell people on the wall all held their breath.

So too did the Campbell people awaiting the signal for the assault.

Seeing the tense yet certain look in the Deputy Officer's eyes, Wesley turned his gaze toward the distant castle, and the saber in his hand swung down sharply.

"Fire!"

Over a hundred cannons roared in the same instant!

Explosive bursts of flame ripped through the air; the earth shuddered and groaned, and groaning with it was that city wall already tottering in the storm!

Volley after volley of shot smashed into the wall like giant waves crashing against a reef!

With each explosion, the shadow of the fortress trembled once in the morning light, and the Mages maintaining the Protective Barrier felt a despair that rose from the depths of their hearts.

The shells were too dense!

If they had been spread across all four walls, intercepting them would not have been a problem.

But when every shell was focused on a single wall, and the bombardment came on without pause, perhaps only a Demigod akin to the Divine could fully block that iron flood formed by the gathered wills of so many…

The Campbell Duchy had never had many Mages, and those loyal to the Northern Vassals were even fewer. This was a Land of Knights, not, after all, the Empire's Academic State.

Unlike the young Sir Wesley, the Deputy Officer standing at his side was an old soldier past forty. He had served the Campbell family for over a decade, had witnessed countless brutal battles, and had never once so much as frowned.

Yet the scene before him now made him, for the first time, feel a hollowness in his chest, as though something had been scooped out of his body.

The North Stream Valley Earl's Territory was the northernmost Earl Domain in the Campbell Duchy, and this Glanston Castle, facing Rapids Pass across the distance, had long been proudly hailed by countless Campbell people as the "Northern Barrier."

They had more than once shielded the Duchy from bandit incursions in the North, and from the Chaos Power slipping past Brass Pass into Twilight Province.

The Earl of Glanston was thus known as the "Duchy Shield," a title of honor that, like their rank, had been passed down from generation to generation.

But now—

That supposedly impregnable fortress was beginning to show cracks amid the smoke and dust of bombardment.

The chanting of the Mage Group was gradually falling behind the roar of the guns. Before the Duke's cannon barrels had fully burned red, the towering wall had already begun to spiderweb with fissures!

At noon.

Everyone's palms were slick with hot sweat.

Some already sensed the end of this ordeal approaching, while others only waited in long, directionless uncertainty—until a thunderous crash sounded.

The middle section of the west wall suddenly collapsed; the shattering of massive stones blended with the echo of cannon fire and, in the grey smoke, came crashing down like a waterfall.

The Deputy Officer shut his eyes on instinct, unwilling to witness the arrival of this moment.

The shield of the Northern Realm, the Campbell people's glory…

Had actually been destroyed by their own hands.

The continuing roll of cannon fire swept away his grief; only the trembling in his chest answered the confusion in his heart, until the wall finally collapsed completely.

The Mages behind the wall were carried away by the Monks inside the castle, taken to the Church to receive the treatment of Priests and Nuns.