Chapter 1767 - 493: The Impregnable Fortress Collapses at Dawn (Part 2)

Cheers erupted from the artillery positions of the besieging side.

The young soldiers waved their military caps high in excitement.

After several days and nights of preparation, they had finally torn apart the enemy's castle, and they hadn't suffered heavy casualties for it.

Sir Wesley, like his deputy officer, gazed at the ruins with mixed feelings, acknowledging it as the shield of the Northern Realm.

However, unlike the deputy officer, he did not see it as Campbell's glory... it was only the glory of the Nobles.

Besides, this "Duchy Shield" had already betrayed its homeland and was now in the hands of their enemies!

"Save the sentimentality for after the war."

He turned to the deputy officer and spoke slowly.

"If we don't send those rebels to the graveyard, our children will have to grow up there."

There was no anger in his words.

Just as he bore no irresolvable hatred against his enemies, they had simply chosen different paths and staked everything, including their beliefs, on it.

A moment later, Wesley once again drew the Commanding Sword from his waist.

The straight blade shimmered coldly in the morning mist, reflecting the burning smoke and his stern, resolute face.

"Pass my order—advance the first and second thousand-man teams!"

"Take the breach in the west wall!"

The messenger immediately rode off, followed closely by the shrill sound of the bugle and the drumbeat urging the troops forward.

The young men of Campbell formed neat square formations, marching in step with the drummers' beat, their flintlock guns loaded and ready.

Accompanying them were the "Hunter Soldier" regiments mixed within the thousand-man teams.

They were composed of "Mountain People," all tall and robust grenadiers who could hurl grenades over a hundred meters, buying time for their troop formations to fire at close range.

The sound of horns echoed across the plains.

The defending forces gathered beneath the city walls also formed dense phalanxes, shoulder to shoulder, armor clashing.

Some trembled, some whispered prayers, but most just stood silently, waiting for dusk to end the ordeal.

In the distance, moving figures appeared along the horizon, and the soldiers began loading their flintlocks at the command of their officers.

They were coming...

The distant phalanx resembled a wave of iron pushed by the wind, flags snapping in the gray sky, familiar local dialects resonating in the air.

And there was that familiar slogan.

"With the iron and fire in your hands, tell the traitors ahead! Either surrender your heads, or surrender the castle!"

"For Duke Edward!"

"For Campbell!"

"Charge——!"

...

The brutal siege battle began.

After a bloody struggle by the castle defenders, the first thousand-man team retreated after leaving hundreds of corpses, ultimately failing to take the castle in one fell swoop.

But that was alright.

Although they had not forced the enemy to surrender, they had achieved the secondary goal of weakening the defenders, and the second thousand-man team pressed forward behind them.

Marching in rhythm with the drums, the Hell Paratroopers felt their hearts pounding in their chests, excitement etched on their not-so-bright faces.

Although the Gray Wind Artificial Humans were now very similar to real humans, they still couldn't perfectly replicate the complex facial nerves.

This was why the Campbell people thought these "Mountain People" looked like fools.

However, it didn't matter.

On the battlefield, even fools could instill fear with sheer brute force and reckless ferocity.

Moreover, they weren't truly foolish.

In the Hell Paratroopers' vision, the scarlet title of the "Epic Quest: Capture Glanton Castle" flickered slightly in the upper left corner!

'Either surrender the castle or surrender your heads!'

The sense of immersion was overwhelming!

He felt the hot blood in his chest ignite!

Not only the Hell Paratroopers, but also the other players advancing shoulder to shoulder with him.

In the sound of marching, there was a suppressed and excited clamor, especially when fireballs and shells landed nearby, further heightening the atmosphere.

"Charge, brothers! Claim the first kill!"

"The castle is mine!"

"Damn! This blood!"

"Holy shit, this explosion! My graphics card is burning!"

"What graphics card? Are you playing on a PC?"

"Hey! My VR headset actually connects to a PC!"

"Oh oh oh! Not important, I just wanted to say that line!"

The noisy sound diluted the bloodiness of the battlefield, a rare solace against the melancholy behind the smoke.

Although they received the tragic script from the Divine, these optimistic and brave young players sang as they faced death.

After all, they were mere "tourists" in this world, only capable of replacing a small fraction of the snowflakes destined to fall.

Unlike the boisterous players, the Duchy soldiers advancing with the Hunter Soldier regiment wore grave expressions.

Their eyes were bloodshot, as if they hadn't slept well for many days and nights, their blackened hands gripping the gunstocks like charred firewood.

The call to charge sounded once more.

The Hell Paratroopers and their comrades were the first to respond, charging forward with roars.

They were the first to climb the scorching piles of rubble, throwing lit grenades into breaches without waiting for NPC commanders' orders.

In the roar of the blossoming shells, the phalanx of defenders trying to organize a defense behind the ruins was instantly thrown into disarray.

Although the castle defenders tenaciously filled the gap, they were quickly felled by an incoming, albeit uneven, volley.