The giant stone cannon ultimately did not fire a second shot.

To allow the operators to observe the enemy and the impact points, the Duke had built six high platforms within the city to house cannons and catapults. In other words, their height exceeded the city walls, ensuring that no enemy movement would escape the attackers' eyes.

This was meant to be a foolproof choice. The elevated perspective would not only provide better aiming efficiency and increase the range of cannonballs and projectiles but also give the enemy a strong sense of oppression.

However, in the face of Roland's army's incomprehensible artillery, the high platforms became conspicuous targets instead.

Willian felt for the first time that a quarter of an hour could be so long.

The explosions from the city walls seemed to never cease.

As the household soldiers struggled to load snow powder, a cannonball landed squarely on the right-side platform.

In an instant, the platform seemed to erupt into a bright sun, engulfing the massive giant stone cannon and more than twenty men, then crimson flames transformed into countless tentacles, rushing in all directions, and the city's buildings were shaken, raising a cloud of yellow dust.

A broken piece of bronze tubing flew from the flames, struck the side of another high platform, and plummeted to the ground, landing among a group of laborers carrying stones. The fragility and helplessness of the flesh were revealed at this moment—when the cannon tube rolled twice and came to a stop, a pool of reddish-brown minced meat had already formed on the ground. And those unlucky souls whose limbs were crushed, still not dead, clutched their mangled limbs and screamed, hoping someone would grant them a quick death.

However, Willian couldn't care about them at this moment.

The watchtower was also an obvious target for the enemy. As soon as the wall turned into a sea of fire, the nobles lost the courage to continue watching and retreated at the first opportunity. And this decision was obviously correct. The enemy's rate of fire far exceeded everyone's imagination. Almost every ten breaths, a round of cannonballs landed, and the accuracy was getting higher and higher. The area around the city wall had become an extremely dangerous zone.

Initially, fireballs rose outside the city, but then they all smashed into the city, converging towards the high platforms and the city gate. The city was filled with smoke, debris flew everywhere, and the roar mixed with wails, resembling a scene from hell.

When the enemy finally stopped firing, not only were all six high platforms destroyed, but a breach had also been blasted in the city gate.

According to the plan, the Duke's household soldiers should immediately lower the iron gate or the dragon-stopping stone to block the entrance and prepare for an ambush, but after experiencing such a terrifying bombardment, continuing to hold the line had become an unrealistic requirement. Flames flowed everywhere along the grease, charred corpses could be seen everywhere under the city walls, and even those who had luckily escaped the disaster had completely lost the courage to fight, not to mention the conscripted laborers.

Those who could run had already run away, and those who remained were either scared out of their wits or seriously injured and unable to escape.

Willian had thought he might fail, but he had not expected to lose so quickly.

Without harming a single opponent, the entire defense line collapsed. What exactly had Roland done in the past two years?

"Lord, this… we can't fight anymore…"

"Let's surrender."

"Yes, surrendering doesn't mean admitting defeat. We can find other opportunities."

"That's right, as long as they stay in the Eastern Territory, we will get our revenge sooner or later."

"If Tiffyco were here, he would not blame you. You have done your best, it's just that the enemy is too ferocious."

Willian was silent for a moment, then turned to look at Grina.

The latter had pushed away a burning wooden beam to protect him during the retreat, and the scattered embers had burned off a corner of her hair and left two black marks on her face. Even so, her eyes were still as bright as before, without a trace of frustration or embarrassment. "I'll follow your orders."

The Duke took a deep breath. "You surrender."

"Lord… what about you?"

"I've been preparing for two years, not to leave behind a reputation for surrendering without a fight," he said slowly. "Roland must understand that powerful force cannot conquer everything, and Tiffyco also has fearless vassals. Grina, where is my Knights?"

The Chief Knight said without hesitation, "They are all on standby in the second ambush area."

"No more hiding, have them all come to the city gate." Willian instructed, "Viscount Aliberk, remove all the traps we prepared earlier."

"Remove them? Why?" The nobles were surprised.

"Those things alone can't stop the enemy. It's better to let them in and have a fair decisive charge—at this point, someone has to give an explanation." The Duke realized that when the final moment came, he was unexpectedly calm. In any case, this scene would be written into history, and he would be worthy of His Majesty.

…

Half an hour later, Roland's army finally appeared at the city gate. Their actions were very cautious. First, a small team removed the broken door panels and occupied both sides of the entrance, and then the follow-up troops gradually entered. Stepping into the city, they quickly piled up a simple barricade in the center of the long street, and two special flintlocks were pushed to the front.

Willian no longer cared what the enemy was going to do. He raised his reins and led the knights slowly out of the street corner, lining up along the street.

Seven knights and fifteen squires were his last counterattack force.

This also convinced the Duke of the necessity and superiority of the aristocratic system.

Faced with such a desperate situation, only nobles who understood loyalty, honor, and duty could muster the courage to charge the enemy.

He pulled down his visor, raised his spear, faced the increasing number of invaders, and exhaled a long breath—

"Today we may have failed, but history will not forget us. Everyone's name will become a poem, constantly sung in ballads. Show courage and fight fearlessly to the last moment! Knights of the Borgia family, follow me!"

"Victory—!"

Willian waved his reins, leading the crowd to accelerate along the long street and launch a final sprint towards the enemy's position.

The rolling smoke and unextinguished flames were the best embellishments for the battlefield. For a moment, the Duke felt that this was his suitable destination.

Soon the charging distance was shortened by half, and the speed of the horses was also increased to the maximum, but he did not hear the drum-like sound of hooves behind him. Looking back, Willian couldn't help but be stunned—he was surprised to find that the more than twenty people who had charged at the beginning had disappeared, and only Grina was still with him.

This street was not the only way. It was connected to many side roads and alleys. In that instant, Willian understood the cause and effect.

Why… is this happening?

He wanted to ask this question, but when he looked at the female knight's affectionate eyes, he suddenly felt that everything was no longer important.

This ending didn't seem so bad either.

—At least you are still by my side, aren't you?

Willian smiled, lowered his spear, and aimed it at the nearest enemy.

Then a burst of dense bullets enveloped him.