Chapter 312

“Archers! Keep shooting without rest! We must weaken the enemy even a little! Other soldiers, prepare the oil and catapults! They’ll soon be climbing the walls!”

Karl shouted without pause. Since Freide had abandoned command to face the Grand Warrior, he was the only one left to lead the soldiers.

As for the knights, Silvan, a member of the Imperial Knight Order, would handle his part.

“Imperial Knight Order, prepare for battle! The time has come to avenge our legion commanders! For the Empire!”

“For the Empire!”

At Silvan’s timely command, the knights drew their swords in unison.

Their faces were filled with firm resolve and a hint of resentment. Even if Duver was one thing, Georg was the second most respected knight in the Imperial Knight Order after the Ghost Sword.

Since the Ghost Sword’s name had been buried in the mud, Georg had become the most respected knight.

—

“There are so many…”

“Indeed.”

Oleg and Valentin muttered as they looked up at the silver arrows raining down like a storm.

If they could just gather all those arrowheads, they could probably build a house out of silver.

“Rich folks, huh? Do they own like five or six silver mines?”

“If they didn’t, it’d be strange. Buying all that silver would bankrupt anyone ten times over.”

While exchanging words, the two Beastmen kept swinging their weapons to deflect the arrows.

To Grand Warriors like them, simple silver arrows weren’t much of a threat, but they still had no intention of just standing there and taking hits.

“By the way, why have you been sniffing around so much?”

Even as he charged toward the walls, Valentin kept sniffing the air.

He too was a Grand Warrior. A little sprint like this wouldn’t disrupt his breathing, so it was clear he was intentionally inhaling.

“There’s a scent that’s been bothering me… It’s faint now, masked by the smell of blood. But it’s a nostalgic scent.”

“…Nostalgic?”

Oleg frowned slightly.

Beyond the walls were only enemies. For Valentin to catch a nostalgic scent from them wasn’t a good sign.

‘Hmm… I have a rough idea.’

Valentin didn’t seem to realize it yet, but Oleg remembered.

The reason why the Beastman Devourers got their name.

The surprise attack on the Capital of Millicia. Among the Beastmen who lost their lives then… was Valentin’s brother, Boris Ivanov.

But that was months ago. For Boris’s scent to linger now meant that Boris hadn’t just been killed.

‘…No need to tell him.’

Oleg kept his mouth shut. If Valentin realized the truth about the scent, he’d surely go berserk.

So it was better to keep it a secret.

– Kwaoooooo!

While they were talking, a massive arrow, having destroyed all the catapults, flew mercilessly toward a new target—Lyudmila, who was gleefully smashing ballistae with her javelins.

Lyudmila’s expression stiffened slightly. Her survival instincts were screaming at her to dodge and intercept. But instead of obeying her instincts, she chose to trust her king.

“Keep running!”

Lyurik shouted decisively as he leaped toward the arrow.

A strength that surpassed even a Grand Warrior. The ground beneath him exploded, sending a blizzard of debris into the air as Lyurik’s body shot upward.

The eyes of the winter wolf caught the massive arrow approaching within inches. The silver arrow, swirling with turbulent air currents, was indeed a tricky attack to defend against at the Grand Warrior level.

Lyurik crossed his arms and sharpened his fingertips. His muscles, hard as steel, bulged tightly. He needed no weapons. The only weapon he trusted was himself.

“Woooooo!”

Ten claws tore through the air.

A fierce strike that carved a cross into the sky. The swirling currents of the arrow scattered, and the arrow shattered like glass upon touching his claws.

The remaining force couldn’t even leave a scratch on Lyurik’s body.

Having perfectly crushed Milia’s snipe, Lyurik grinned and landed on the snowy ground. With a thud, white dust scattered in all directions.

“Winter Wolf! Winter Wolf!”

The surrounding Beastmen cheered.

“His Majesty sure loves to take on the hard work himself.”

“Well, it does boost morale.”

Oleg chuckled and shrugged.

—

Relieved by Lyurik’s flawless defense, Lyudmila threw her spear once more.

The ballistae were all hidden, but that didn’t mean there were no targets left. The archers were still sticking their heads out to shoot.

‘It’s a waste to throw spears just to take out one or two soldiers. I’ll throw a few and stop.’

That should be enough to break their morale and cause some chaos.

‘I can use the rest after climbing the walls.’

She had already decided who to target.

Once she climbed the walls, her javelins would reach the snipers in the watchtowers. She needed to save some spears for that.

“Kwehk!”

The thrown spear embedded itself in the collarbone of an unlucky archer.

Like a bull’s charge, the soldier’s body was flung backward. His upper torso was completely blown apart, leaving a gruesome sight.

His neck, now just a strip of skin, tore apart, and his head fell off. His arm, barely hanging on by a few strands of muscle, flapped like a rag.

From the hole in the chest, the large and small intestines spill out like a tail.

The heart and lungs had long since disappeared, and the torn stomach, splattering yellow gastric juice, rolled around inside the hollowed-out abdomen.

A soldier, now a ragdoll, floated through the air like a kite before crashing into the ground inside the walls.

With a *splat*, the remaining attached parts were crushed and scattered, as if mauled by a beast.

The head, now just a skull, bounced like a ball and rolled along the top of the wall.

“Huh, huuuick!”

The surrounding soldiers, drenched in blood and gore, flinched and reflexively stepped back.

Though it was a weaker attack compared to Milia’s arrows, to them, it was still monstrously terrifying.

Just as Ludmilla, with a cold smile, was about to throw her spear at them, a familiar whistling sound reached her ears.

Milia’s arrow was once again flying toward her.

Perhaps wary of Ryurik, the arrow curved sharply, making it difficult for him to intercept.

Impressive archery. Arrows usually fly straight or in a simple arc, but this one twisted like a snake, changing its trajectory mid-flight.

Though its power was reduced, it was still a tricky shot for even Ryurik to block.

“Ugh, so annoying!”

Frowning, Ludmilla threw her spear at the arrow in frustration.

The spear, hurled with a violent twist from shoulder to wrist, collided with the master archer’s arrow.

*Kwaaaaang!*

The two steel weapons shattered into pieces with a deafening explosion.

While attacking the sniper from this distance would be difficult, neutralizing the arrow was more than possible.

No matter how strong, an arrow is still just an arrow. Destroy it, and the energy it carries dissipates helplessly.

Pulling a new spear from her subordinate’s back, Ludmilla glared fiercely toward the watchtower.

—

The scattered blood dyed the snowy field red, sending up steam.

Thousands of beasts advanced relentlessly, blocking arrows with their shields and deflecting attacks with their weapons.

Missed arrows embedded themselves in the ground like porcupine quills, while fireballs, ice spikes, wind blades, and lightning spears tore through the surroundings.

The thunderous noise, the roars of the beastmen, screams, and cries all mixed chaotically, echoing loudly even within the inner walls.

“Khhh…! Damn silver arrows…!”

“Kyaaaaah! Fire! I’m on fire!”

An arrow that slipped through pierced fur and flesh, while fierce flames consumed the beasts’ bodies.

Unable to endure the pain, some beastmen rolled on the ground.

“Khhh… The snow saved me…”

A beast, rolling on the snow to extinguish the flames, rose again with a charred body.

The burnt skin cracked and fell away, revealing new flesh beneath.

Though the real battle hadn’t even begun, the battlefield was already as chaotic as if a sleeping dragon had been startled awake.

Massive arrows and spears collided repeatedly, shaking the air.

Occasional red arrows flew in, indiscriminately blowing off heads, whether pureblood or hybrid.

Ryurik’s army had already suffered significant losses before even reaching the walls.

Corpses on the snow vomited gushes of blood. The residents of Paleun Castle might have to hold off on bathing for a while.

The overflowing blood would seep into the underground hot springs, dyeing them red.

“Keep shooting! We need to inflict as much damage as possible!”

“Charge! We’re almost there!”

Commanders on both sides shouted themselves hoarse, urging their troops forward.

A half-suicidal sprint. Before long, the beasts’ vanguard was nearing the walls.

“Climb! Your prey is right in front of you!”

Ryurik, pointing at the walls, let out a triumphant roar. The warriors responded in unison, speeding up even more.

Perhaps because it was built on hot springs, Paleun Castle had no moat.

Digging too deep risked hot spring water seeping to the surface, weakening the ground and causing it to sink.

Besides, a moat wasn’t much of an obstacle for beastmen.

If it was narrow, they could simply leap over it. Even if it was widened to prevent that, it would only buy a few seconds.

The effort wasn’t worth the minimal gain.

There was another, bigger reason, though.

In any case, the lack of a moat allowed the beasts to reach the walls directly.

“Go! Sharpen your claws!”

Beastmen with weapons in hand dug their claws into the walls.

Sharp claws pierced and gripped the stone. The beasts began scaling the walls in a line, as fast as cockroaches.

For them, climbing walls was no different from running on flat ground.