Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 637 - 636: Defending the City

Wales Moen was crowned.

At this moment when Anzu was about to topple.

A portion of what happened in the Golden Oak Hall eventually spread out, and under a certain deliberate or unintended control, the aristocrats living in the Inner City District who were not qualified to enter the Golden Oak Hall learned the rough course of events. They knew that the King had executed the ”traitors,” that the new King had already gained the allegiance of the Order of Knights before his coronation, and that Duke Baldwin Franklin of the West handed over the King’s golden crown, with Wales himself completing his own coronation—besides these surface events, the purge within the Order of Knights and the imprisonment of several high-ranking aristocrats for treason after the coronation ceremony were known only to a few.

Thus, the long-vacant throne finally had a King again, and the Order of Knights returned to the battlefield in the name of the King. On that day, many aristocrats with pale faces walked out of the Golden Oak Hall, and the previously chaotic and noisy voices of various factions were then unified. News of the ”southern reinforcements” began to spread throughout the city, and the new King came forward to confirm the authenticity of this news.

Consequently, the Garrison Soldiers were encouraged, the children of nobility from various Orders of Knights also settled down, the panicked and uneasy citizens regained some courage, and the already near-collapse order of the royal capital teetered on the edge of a cliff, but ultimately returned to a safe boundary—even though all this was temporary, what St. Soniel needed was precisely this sort of ”temporary.”

A massive arcane arc sliced through the air, accompanied by intense flashes and a series of explosions hitting the southeastern city wall. The colossal Great Shield of St. Soniel rippled in layers, dissipating the impact of the arcane arc into the invisible, leaving only a remnant of electrical currents licking the shield, dispersing into the air outside the city wall.

The Soldiers staggered amidst the tremors, and a Knight draped in a royal emblem cloak was the first to climb out of the crowd, raising his sword, shouting hoarsely, ”Ballista—load the enchanted bolts!!”

The Knight’s aura of encouragement spread around, allowing the Soldiers, mere humans, to quickly regain their mobility. The warriors rushed to the nearest ballistae and platforms where the bolts were stored, swiftly preparing to counterattack—the so-called ”bolts” of the city defense ballistae were actually standard-sized war spears, with steel arrowheads embedded with tiny bits of Mithril. Combat Mages stood beside the ballistae and, upon seeing the Soldiers place new bolts into the grooves, immediately imbued the tiny amounts of Mithril with the power of Magic.

With a ”bang,” the bowstring vibrated, and the enormous bolt, its arrowhead flashing with a dim light, shot through the air. Before the magic power contained within the tiny bits of Mithril could completely dissipate, they had already drawn an arc and plunged into the surging tide on the plains, where a flash of light erupted at the point of impact, followed quickly by a moderate explosion fireball rising into the sky.

On the city wall, the Knight once again raised his Longsword, shouting, ”Heavy armor—aim!” ”Fire!!”

The second wave of enchanted ballista bolts descended onto the battlefield, and along with those gigantic bolts flew large arcane bullets launched by the Combat Mage Tower behind the city wall. The second strike exploded into a grander blaze amidst the monsters, exchanging an equally grand retaliation—even the frenzied monsters possess the instinct to counterattack, and a sudden barrage of arcane arcs rained down in an instant.

A sacred white light descended in perfect timing, blocking them before the arcane arcs could start consuming the Great Shield of St. Soniel. Veronica, dressed in a plain white robe, walked slowly up the city wall, her hands slightly spread open as the Holy Light floated in the air around her, faintly resonating with the entire priest Clergy behind her.

”The priest Clergy has arrived!” The Knight commanding this section of defense shouted joyfully, ”Everyone return to position, armor up, continue the counterattack!!”

A large number of Holy Light clerics draped in white robes and Church Knights clad in white armor ran up the city wall from behind Veronica, simultaneously casting various Divine Arts to help fend off the attacks of Crystal Cluster Giants while swiftly healing the wounded Soldiers—even with the Great Shield of St. Soniel in place, not all attacks could be blocked. Occasionally, arcane lightning that pierced the barrier and the shockwaves generated during severe shield tremors would cause casualties among the Garrison Soldiers, making the priests with healing abilities particularly crucial in these moments.

All sorts of shouts filled the surroundings, intermixed with sounds of magical explosions, barrier resonances, and crossbow firings. This hell engulfed in death and the flames of war seemed like the extreme opposite of the tranquil and serene Cathedral of the Holy Light, but Veronica stood amidst it all, her face maintaining an indifferent and holy demeanor, seemingly unaffected by her surroundings.

In fact, an almost tangible aura of ”serenity” even surrounded her, as if the tranquil environment of the Cathedral of the Holy Light had solidified on her, accompanying her actions onto the city wall.

”Is it merely because there’s a King on the throne now...”

Veronica quietly watched this scene of united determination, murmuring to herself in a voice only she could hear.

A middle-ranked Priest clad in a white robe with gold edges ran up to Veronica, ”Saint Princess! There’s heavy casualties on the west section of the city wall, the priest Clergy over there...”

Veronica smiled gently, speaking in a reassuring tone, ”Take your men to support, leave this place to me.”

”Your safety...”

”You’re here to protect this city, not me,” Veronica interrupted. ”Go ahead, I can protect myself.”

”...Yes.”

The priest Clergy quickly departed, while Veronica stood quietly on the fierce battlefield of the city wall, the power of the Holy Light slowly spreading from her, enveloping all nearby warriors and part of the Great Shield of St. Soniel. This continuously flowing and powerful Holy Light exceeded the combined strength of an entire priest Clergy, and under its blessing, this defensive line quickly stabilized, even transitioning into a stage of effective counterattack.

The Knight commanding the defense cast a grateful glance at Veronica but had no time to come over for detailed thanks—normally, the Knight would never pass up the opportunity to speak directly with and pay respects to the ”Saint Princess,” but now, the task of defending the city was obviously more important than anything else.

Veronica simply nodded slightly at the Knight, then lowered her head to gaze at the Holy Light emanating from her.

This radiant power flowed continuously, with no need for deliberate prayer or guidance; it naturally emerged and gathered.

”The will to protect...is very strong,” Veronica murmured to herself, her fingers stirring a wisp of Holy Light as if manipulating something tangible, ”Interestingly, even the few non-believers of the Holy Light on the city wall are receiving equal protection...

”Does humanity’s survival instinct surpass the boundaries of faith in times like this...

”Are humans truly guiding the Holy Light...”

Veronica raised her head, looking toward another section of the city wall not far away.

The newly crowned King of Anzu, standing tall behind the parapet, supported himself with both hands on the King’s Sword. His armor, intricately decorated with golden patterns, gleamed in the sunlight, the royal cloak of blue and gold fluttered slightly behind him, and the King’s golden crown still sat on his head, heavy and majestic.

This attire is strikingly conspicuous in any setting. From a practical standpoint, wearing such bright armor on the battlefield only makes one a target for the enemy. However, here, being sufficiently visible helps the garrison soldiers clearly identify the King’s location and maintain high morale.

Whether it’s the coronation of the new king, intelligence on the reinforcements, or the knight’s strong control over the aristocrats, all these measures bring about temporary morale and unity. This is a besieged isolated city, and the enemies outside are endless. Even the steeliest resolve will gradually deplete under such encirclement, so the King must stand on the city walls to extend this ”temporary” as long as possible.

A gust of wind rose, and Baldwin Franklin descended beside Wales Moen through flying magic: ”Your Majesty, the barrier on the western city wall has been recharged, the wall itself is self-repairing, and the line of defense is temporarily stable.”

Wales nodded slightly: ”How are the casualties?”

”Three hundred and twenty soldiers were injured, twenty-seven died on the spot, but the priest Clergy arrived in time, so the casualties did not expand further.”

”How about the western wall bastion?”

”Still intact, the barrier held off the strongest attack.”

The so-called western wall bastion includes a section of the main city wall extending forward and the entire western ’Guard Fort,’ forming a defense structure, corresponding to the eastern wall bastion. These two bastion structures are St. Soniel’s greatest reliance when facing attacks from the Plains of the Holy Spirits.

Wales let out a small breath of relief, retracting his gaze from the plains: ”If we maintain this situation, we can hold out.”

”But we will run out of energy in the Mage towers by the fifth or sixth day, the Great Shield will be at its limit, and by then, we can only rely on human lives to resist.”

”Seven hundred years ago, our ancestors took this place by sacrificing their lives, so it’s not wrong to defend it with lives now.”

Duke Baldwin’s gaze lingered on Wales’ face for a long time, finally speaking softly: ”Your Majesty, almost no one could truly see you.”

Wales did not turn back, only spoke quietly: ”Actually, their judgment was not wrong.”

After two seconds of silence, Baldwin let out a faint sigh, then spoke: ”Your Majesty, if all goes as planned, Duke Gawain Cecil’s army will arrive in seven days. Regardless of how they manage it, this army has the power to break through these monsters and quell this disaster.”

”I know.”

”...Then, it seems this is also within your plans.”

The wall fell into silent contemplation for a time, only the cries of battle and the sound of air cutting filled the air, fleetingly echoing. Minutes later, Baldwin Franklin’s voice broke the silence: ”Your Majesty, always prepare for the worst. If reinforcements do not arrive in seven days, are you ready?”

”Of course,” Wales said calmly, ”My surname is Moen.”

”Then, Franklin stands with you.”

...

The dazzling light flow formed by the ”Calibrator” beam gradually faded away, leaving only a twisted trail in the air to show where the dreadful torrent had existed. With the crystal clusters that might threaten the armored cargo ships on the riverbank annihilated, the entire fleet accelerated again, swiftly advancing towards the northern banks of the Gorgon River.

On the deck of the Pioneer, a massive armored griffon landed steadily, and a female gryphon knight dismounted, handing her companion to the receiving soldier, then walked towards the bridge not far ahead.

Minutes later, Amber arrived beside Gawain:

”The Gryphon Knight observed signs of large-scale combat far to the north, on the west bank of the Gorgon River. It seems someone is organizing a blockade of the riverbank to resist the Crystal Cluster crossing — judging by the magical surge, the side blocking the riverbank is not at a disadvantage.”

”It seems the royal capital is not completely paralyzed... at least they still have the strength to block part of the Gorgon River’s banks to prevent the spread of pollutants,” Gawain nodded slightly, feeling somewhat relieved, ”It must be Duke Franklin’s West Frontier Corps — while not as strong as the eastern and northern forces, it is still one of the Protectorate Armies, capable of blocking a riverbank.”

Amber nodded in agreement: ”In this way, there’s no immediate concern about pollutants crossing the river, and we can meet up with the north sooner...”

Just as she spoke, a member of the Intelligence Agency ran over hastily, his expression peculiar, clutching a piece of freshly transcribed intelligence tightly in his hand.

Amber took the intelligence, glanced over it quickly, then handed it to Gawain with surprise:

”Two significant pieces of information.

”Firstly, possibly because the fleet is nearing an intact northern relay station, we’ve just restored communication with the St. Soniel Communication Station. The signal is unstable, but we can barely make contact.

”Secondly, Wales Moen has been crowned.”