Warhammer Divine Throne

Chapter 1000: Chapter 436: The Siege of Montfort_3

Isn’t this self-contradictory?

Did this Undead Grand Mage really lose his wits after Francois chopped off half his head?

Fine then, go ahead and court death, Kemler. Beneath his helmet, Mathew Bade’s face twisted into a feral grin. Once you’re dead, I can smoothly take over all your forces.

Knock yourself out!

The Undead Army continued to advance along the rugged mountain path. Kemler covertly sized up Mathew Bade, a cold sneer curling in his heart.

He didn’t try to dissuade me. This brat is hoping I lose, so he can pick up my whole power base.

If this brat had tried to talk me out of it, then that would mean he wanted me to win a crushing victory.

Just like Mathew Bade has his own little abacus, Kemler had his own plans.

Montefel Castle was absurdly solid, and the Undead were precisely a race that wasn’t good at siege warfare. His Ancient Tomb Legion had no siege engines; taking this castle in a quick assault was damn near impossible.

Letting Duke Fulcard lead the refugees in retreat was exactly for this purpose. So many refugees—how many mouths is that? How much grain is stored in the castle? With food running short, how long can this fortress hold?

What he wanted was to besiege the strongpoint and annihilate the relief. The Montfort Duchy would definitely call the Kingdom for aid. All he had to do was wait for the Knight Kingdom’s other reinforcements to arrive—and then wipe them out!

At the same time... Kemler recalled the battle at La-Mesnil Abbey more than twenty years ago. He remembered Francois charging up to him on horseback, remembered that moment when, under the Lake God’s wrath, the Unicorn Sword carved a freezing arc that almost took his head. The Undead Grand Mage’s hand clenched tightly around his Noisy Skull Staff.

Francois, everything you gave me, I will pay back a hundredfold!

A week later, Brittania, Montefel Castle.

Montefel could be called the model fortress of Brittania. It sat in the middle of Axe Bite Pass, showing the world a prime example of defensive works at their finest: five massive, solid curtain walls cut the castle into successive layers, towering stone ramparts running from the far western end all the way to the bastion at the eastern mouth of the pass. The castle collected tolls from everyone passing through, and within its walls a prosperous trade city had taken shape.

It was said that in ancient times Montfort had been a Dwarf Fortress. Later, after the Dwarf Influence declined, it was abandoned. The current Montefel Castle was built by the Brittani tribes that crossed the Gray Mountain Range, erected atop the ruins of the Dwarf Fortress to resist the Green Skin Tribe.

The Main Castle stood on the northern side of the pass. It was a colossal fort more than twenty meters tall. The five-story stone keep bristled with obsolete artillery imported from the Empire and fixed giant Catapults. Each level was divided into two separate defensive positions. The lower three stories ran parallel to the cliff edge, while the top two formed lofty watchtowers.

Every wall was crowded with the garrison of Brittania, numbering over ten thousand. Yet even behind such towering, impregnable defenses, their hearts were still gripped tight by fear.

Right now, the entire colossal fortress was drowned beneath a sea of Undead.

Duke Fulcard stood atop a watchtower, staring at the endless Undead Army stretching beyond the horizon, his face grim. ”My Lady above, this will be the sternest trial Montefel Castle has faced in decades. Grant me victory.”

”Before the Undead, there is no peace, no surrender! People of the Montfort Duchy! We have only one path—to fight to the death!”

”Stand united, under the faith of the Lady, and we shall fight this battle! May the Lady protect us!”

”May the Lady protect us!” The thunderous reply from within the castle echoed through the valley.

As if answering Duke Fulcard’s words, a twisted, hateful horn blast rose from within the Undead Army.

War had begun.