In an instant, countless tiny stone chips and dust particles rose up from the street, and the ground crackled and popped. The enemy's body jolted violently, and clumps of blood mist erupted from his back—the dense bullets formed an invisible wall, forcefully stopping the charge of the Berserk Guards.
“Nice shot!”
“Slaughter these monsters!”
Dingzi also clenched his fist excitedly. The enemy's armor bloomed with sparks under the heavy machine gun's fire. A hit to the head or chest was almost instantly fatal, and even a hit to the limbs would result in severed limbs, unlike the revolver, which allowed them to continue fighting. More importantly, there was almost no gap between bullet shots, so even missing two or three shots was insignificant.
When the gunfire stopped, white smoke was already rising from the barrel. The Berserk Army left a pile of corpses and retreated in a panic, while those enemies who were hit but not killed and completely incapacitated lay on the ground groaning and moaning. In their eyes, Dingzi saw deep fear.
“Raise your guns!” the captain roared harshly.
Remembering the teammate who had been cut in half in front of him, Dingzi unhesitatingly raised his rifle.
After clearing the road, the team was finally able to advance again.
When the five assault teams arrived at the palace gate, they immediately constructed temporary firing positions according to training requirements, while also monitoring the movements of other streets—to prevent being surrounded, the team attacking the inner city this time was divided into three regiments, advancing along three main streets, supporting each other's flanks. This way, no matter which direction the enemy tried to绕行 (raorao), they would be blocked by the First Army.
But Dingzi found that the plan was not as smooth as it had been during training. The southern street was engulfed in flames, making it almost impassable, and his side encountered rubble obstacles that were difficult for field artillery to overcome. As the fighting went on, the teams became scattered. When encountering strong counterattacks, the team members didn't care about east, west, south, or north, and forgot to observe Lightning xiaojie's flag signals. One assault team that originally belonged to his regiment was even missing. Gunfire could be heard everywhere in the inner city.
Fortunately, they were the first to arrive at the assembly point.
Half an hour later, the other regiments also arrived at the palace entrance one after another, and the field artillery was slowly pushed up.
The hot air balloon floated above the palace again. As four zhàdàn (explosive bombs) leveled the courtyard wall and iron gate, the final siege began.
*******************
“Your Majesty, they're already at the palace door! Flee quickly!” Osborne, the imperial bodyguard, said anxiously. “There's no time to lose!”
Tiffeko sat blankly on the bed in the bedroom, silent. His father ended his life here, and now it seemed it was his turn.
Taking advantage of Wimbledon III's death, he seized the opportunity to push the matter onto the eldest prince, Garon, solving this major hidden danger and ascending to the peak of power. In the following year, he successively integrated the Eastern Territory and the Northern Lands, while also forcing his third sister, Garcia, to leave, gaining unstoppable momentum.
He originally thought that he would take the Western Territory sooner or later, and unifying the entire Graycastle was only a matter of time, but he never expected the situation to change so suddenly and unexpectedly.
First, the Berserk Army repeatedly attacked Border Town to no avail, and then the sudden explosion cast a shadow over his heart.
Then, in just three days... all advantages vanished.
When he received the news from Redwater City, he never thought he would only have three days to prepare—the snow in the Northern Lands had not yet melted, the spring ploughing was just entering the planting stage, it was too early to forcibly conscript militia from various places, and the letters for help sent to the east were probably just being delivered to the new Duke of the Eastern Territory.
In the end, he could only hastily fight with the Royal Knights, mercenary teams, patrol teams, and the guards and retainers of the surrounding nobles, and as a result, the towering walls of the capital, which he was so proud of, didn't even last a day.
“Damn it!” Tiffeko suddenly smashed the candlestick on the bedside table hard on the ground. “Damn guys... If it weren't for colluding with witches, if it weren't for joining the demons, how could you have defeated me!”
“Your Majesty...”
“That's right, demons!”
His voice was hoarse, with a hint of tremor in his anger. “The Church are all useless, claiming to hunt witches, but they just happened to miss Roland Wimbledon! If it wasn't for witches, why would his firearms be so much more powerful than mine, why could he easily launch attacks from the air? Whether it's craftsmen, alchemists, or wealth, I have hundreds of times more than him! There is only one explanation: the demons of hell are helping him!”
Two explosions rang out beneath the palace, and the window glass rattled. Intermittent sounds of fighting vaguely came, which were the last attempts of the guards.
No, I can't die yet! Tiffeko thought bitterly. Wouldn't it be cheaper for the other party if he committed suicide? The one who should go to hell is his younger brother.
“We'll go into the secret passage first.” He stood up, his legs weakened, and he almost fell, but luckily the guard supported him.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Osborne breathed a sigh of relief. He carried Tiffeko on his back and beckoned to the personal guards standing at the door to head towards the fireplace together.
This secret passage had both a live gate and a dead gate. Once the dead gate was lowered, the entrance would be completely blocked and could never be entered. The underground was covered with God's Stone of Retaliation, and it also contained hidden mechanisms. In addition, the forks were intricate and complex, and Tiffeko had not fully explored them all—the underground part of the secret passage had probably been completed since the construction of the palace.
The six arrived at a larger lounge. The new king called a halt to the team, allowing everyone to rest here for a while, while waiting for the opportunity to escape.
It was still daytime, and although there were several exits from the secret passage, the longest one could even lead directly out of the city, but taking rash action now still carried a great risk. After all, the other party had witches who could carry huoyào (gunpowder) into the sky, which he remembered vividly.
The safest approach was to wait until late at night to act. This place was covered with God's Stone, so even witches couldn't sneak in.
“Since we have to wait until late at night to leave, you should lie down here and take a nap,” the imperial bodyguard took out a stack of blankets from a cabinet on the side and spread them on the ground.
Tiffeko lay on the blanket. The slightly damp musty smell made him frown, and two emotions, tension and bewilderment, alternately assaulted his mind, making it difficult for him to fall asleep.
Where should he go next? The Northern Lands or the Eastern Territory?
Both sides had nobles who supported him, and the duke was also a vassal he had recently appointed... but whether they would continue to obey him as before after knowing that the capital had fallen was still a question.
Or... the Church?
Once this idea emerged, it grew wildly in his mind. Those great nobles were themselves wavering reeds. Even if his younger brother was mixed up with witches, they would still choose to compromise when faced with threats, just like the guys at Longsong Stronghold. But the Church... at least on the surface, they wouldn't let go of any witch, let alone nobles who raised a large number of witches.
Even though these religious fanatics were arrogant and slow, they wouldn't sit idly by and watch the demonic forces spread rampantly in the Kingdom of Graycastle, right?
If the Church could fulfill his desire for revenge, what if he gave them his father's kingdom?
As long as... as long as he could personally send Roland Wimbledon to the guillotine and torture those damned witches to death one by one, otherwise he wouldn't be able to swallow this breath!
In the dim light of the torch, Tiffeko made a decision.
Estimating that it was after midnight, the group escaped from the capital through the longest passage.
But before they had gone half a li, hundreds of torches suddenly lit up in the surrounding fields!
“Your Majesty, run—" Osborne's words were cut short.
At this time, any words seemed superfluous. The other party was clearly prepared and had set up an excellent encirclement here, blocking their path no matter which way they turned.
Tiffeko's heart was ashen for a moment, he had nowhere to escape. (。)