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[TSS] Chapter 63 - Overwhelming
🕑 Added 2025-02-13 08:49:40 +0000 UTCLuke gazed out over the west wall. The sun had set hours ago, and the crisp night air carried the scent of cook fires drifting from the enemy camps. The cloudless sky stretched overhead, a canvas of shimmering stars, a fleeting beauty before the inevitable carnage.
Tonight, blood would be spilled.
“It’s time,” Luke said, shifting his attention to those gathered around him. General Boyd, Kayson, and several lower-ranked officers stood nearby, their expressions ranging from tense determination to barely concealed apprehension.
“Open the gates,” General Boyd commanded, his voice gruff and steady.
The order was swiftly carried out. The western gate groaned open, its heavy iron hinges protesting as it revealed an unguarded path into the city. Even Luke, the architect of this strategy, felt a knot tighten in his stomach. His mouth was dry, his nerves taut.
He turned his gaze to the ramparts, where a hundred men huddled behind the walls, awaiting the signal. There was no room for doubt now. They had committed to this course of action, and hesitation would only lead to failure.
Luke had sent the bulk of their forces to defend the other gates, leaving the western entrance deliberately exposed—a lure to draw in the enemy. If the plan worked, the thunder bombs would detonate at just the right moment, crippling the Lhair army before they could fully breach the city.
But there was a critical risk. The Holy Knights had to take the bait. If even a single one of them diverted to reinforce the assaults on the other walls, their losses would skyrocket. Worse, the battle would spill into the city’s streets, a scenario Luke was desperate to avoid.
‘If their General sees his soldiers as expendable, he’ll send everything through here,’ Luke thought, forcing himself to remain hopeful.
Yet even if the enemy moved as expected, one terrifying variable remained. Would the thunder bombs work? If they failed—if they were duds—then fewer than a hundred men would be left to face an army of nearly ten thousand.
It was a gamble.
“General, the enemy is advancing!” A soldier’s voice rang out from atop the ramparts.
Luke’s hands were clammy. He curled his fingers into fists, trying to steady himself. He had poured every waking moment of the past week into refining the thunder bombs. He had to trust that his efforts wouldn’t be in vain.
“I’ll let you give the signal,” General Boyd said, eyes never leaving the tunnel.
Luke nodded. “Thank you, General.”
They had taken cover on the staircases flanking the gate, both to avoid detection and to remain outside the blast radius. Of course, Luke was far more wary of this than the others—he understood better than anyone the sheer destructive potential of the bombs.
Peering around the corner, he caught sight of two columns of enemy troops marching into the tunnel, their pace slow and measured. At the forefront, a Holy Knight led the way. Luke exhaled quietly, relief washing over him. They had taken the bait.
He pulled back, silently counting down in his head, calculating the moment the army would reach the threshold.
Five seconds.
He turned and sprinted up the stairs, raising his hand—the signal.
The officer nodded and relayed the command.
A dozen thunder bombs were ignited and slipped through the openings atop the ramparts, tumbling silently into the tunnel below.
Luke covered his ears and sent a silent prayer to the gods, hoping the bombs would detonate as intended. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Kayson and General Boyd exchanging uncertain glances, both clearly unnerved by his reaction. Still, they followed suit, raising their hands to shield their ears.
Then, the world erupted.
A deafening explosion shook the ground beneath them, followed by a shockwave that slammed into everyone nearby. The blasts didn’t come in a single, controlled burst—instead, they detonated in erratic succession, sending violent tremors through the city walls.
Even though he had braced himself, Luke still felt his knees wobble. His breath caught as he turned to General Boyd and Kayson—both of them were slack-jawed, their expressions frozen in sheer disbelief.
[DING]
[4/5 Subordinates killed]
Luke’s heart pounded. The barrage had claimed two more Holy Knights, leaving only one remaining. That meant the last survivor was most likely the enemy general himself.
He couldn’t afford to let the man escape.
Without hesitation, Luke grabbed Kayson by the arm and pulled him up the stairs.
“Send another volley at the army outside the wall!” he commanded.
Then, turning to Kayson, he pressed a bronze grenade into his hands. “Find the last Holy Knight and throw this at him.”
Kayson, still dazed, looked down at the metallic sphere. His mouth opened as if to protest, but he simply swallowed and nodded stiffly.
“It’s simple,” Luke assured him. “Light the fuse and throw. As long as it lands close enough, it’ll do the job.”
Kayson took a deep breath, then stepped to the edge of the wall. Luke saw the tremor in his hands as he peered down at the battlefield. He didn’t need to look himself to know the carnage that lay below.
For a moment, Luke worried that spotting the last Holy Knight in the dim torchlight would be impossible. But Kayson stiffened—he had found him. Without hesitation, he turned to a nearby torch, lit the oil-soaked rope, and cocked his arm.
The grenade arced through the air.
At the same time, the other soldiers followed suit, igniting their own explosives and hurling them over the wall. The bombs soared like shooting stars descending from the heavens.
This time, everyone ducked and covered their ears.
Then—another series of devastating explosions ripped through the enemy ranks.
[DING]
[5/5 Subordinates killed]
“Hold fire!” Luke shot to his feet, waving his arms.
If the system confirmed five Holy Knights were dead, that meant the enemy general had fallen. The battle was won.
Though he hesitated, Luke forced himself to step to the edge of the wall and peer down. The sight that greeted him made his stomach churn. The battlefield was a grotesque mess—mangled bodies, limbs scattered across the bloodied ground. Those caught in the direct blast had been reduced to unrecognizable husks. The air was thick with the metallic stench of blood and burning flesh.
The survivors had already begun to flee, their agonized wails cutting through the night.
Luke clenched his fists. Despite the necessity of this slaughter, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the men below.
“Finish the wounded,” he ordered, his voice quieter but firm. “Put them out of their misery.”
The soldiers on the ramparts hesitated, then nodded before making their way down to carry out the grim task.
Luke turned to one of the remaining men. “I need a status report from the other gates as soon as possible. The enemy general is dead—any further bloodshed is pointless.”
The soldier snapped a salute before dashing off.
General Boyd ascended the stairs, his usual steady gait faltering. Luke caught sight of him from the corner of his eye. The man looked pale, as if he had just witnessed something beyond comprehension.
“I know you wanted to be the one to avenge Master Gale,” Luke said, his voice measured. “I’m sorry I took that from you.”
The large man didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he stepped toward the wall and gazed down at the battlefield below. The ruined remains of the enemy forces lay scattered across the ground, the carnage illuminated by flickering torchlight.
General Boyd let out a slow sigh. “Knowing that our kingdom has such a capable younger generation… gives me the confidence to retire once more.” He placed a heavy hand on Luke’s shoulder. It was warm, solid—but for the first time, it felt weighed down with something more than just strength.
“This invention of yours…” Boyd continued, his deep voice lingering in the cool night air. “It will change the way war is fought.”
Luke said nothing, waiting for him to continue.
“When news of your weapon reaches the kingdom, all eyes will be on you, young Luke. Some will try to befriend you. Many more will seek to harm you.” Boyd removed his hand and straightened. “I will recommend both you and Kayson for induction into the Royal Academy. There, you should be protected from the greatest dangers.”
He turned to leave, his final words barely more than a whisper.
“I am glad you didn’t have to see this, old friend…”
Luke watched the broad-shouldered man descend the stairs. Somehow, Boyd seemed smaller than before. More fragile.
“Well… your crazy plan actually worked,” Kayson said, stepping up beside him.
Luke nodded. “Against any other general, it probably wouldn’t have.” He exhaled, rubbing his temple. “That Holy Knight was arrogant—too used to relying on his blessing. That overconfidence was his downfall.”
But the victory didn’t fill Luke with satisfaction. If anything, it was a stark reminder.
Even with his system, he could not afford arrogance. Complacency led to death—not just his, but the lives of thousands.
“D-Deputy General!” A soldier hurried up the steps, panting heavily. “The enemy is retreating! All of them!”
Luke closed his eyes briefly, then nodded. “Good. Do not pursue. Sound the retreat—there’s been enough death for one night.”
“Yes, Deputy General.” The soldier saluted before rushing off.
Luke felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Kayson.
“Let’s head back and brief the City Lord,” he said, his grin slightly crooked. “After that, you need to bathe—you smell like you just crawled out of a latrine.”
Luke snorted but didn’t argue. Hygiene had been the least of his concerns in the past week. The thought of washing off the sweat, dirt, and blood sounded almost divine.
They descended the stairs, and for a brief moment, Luke caught sight of the battlefield. Bodies lay strewn across the ground, some barely recognizable. He turned his head away.
The soldiers would have to clear the corpses and burn them—a grim, but necessary task to prevent disease.
Thankfully, that was one burden he wouldn’t have to bear.
Upon arriving at the City Lord’s estate, Luke and Kayson were led straight to the meeting hall, where Viscount Diego was already waiting. The man showed no signs of fatigue, though Luke suspected he had not slept at all during the battle. Either that, or the thunderous explosions had roused him from his rest.
“I have heard that your weapons were effective and have driven back the Lhair army,” Viscount Diego stated. Though his voice carried a note of approval, his handsome face remained cold—an expression fitting for a man in his position.
“Yes, my Lord,” Luke replied. “We used only thirty of the hundred thunder bombs on the west wall. They were far more effective than I initially anticipated.”
“Good. You have done well, Luke Drakon. I only wish Minister Chao had been here to witness our victory.”
Luke raised an eyebrow. The King’s proxy was dead?
“Unfortunately, he attempted to flee in the chaos and was speared in the back by a Lhair soldier,” Viscount Diego continued, his tone devoid of emotion. “A true pity.”
‘That doesn’t sound like the Minister…’ Luke thought, his instincts pricking at him. Something about the explanation felt off. But in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to care. If anything, the man’s death was a boon.
“We lost many good men today, my Lord,” Luke said, his tone solemn. “Now that the enemy has retreated, we should begin securing food and supplies from the south as soon as possible.”
Viscount Diego nodded. “I will send a messenger at dawn.” He paused, tapping his fingers against the armrest of his chair, deep in thought. “There has still been no word from Xiu Fortress. I fear the worst. Perhaps they are under siege again?”
“Impossible,” Luke stated confidently. “The Qin Empire would need at least another week to rally enough troops for another assault. It’s more likely that the traitors among their ranks are sowing chaos within the walls.”
Kayson, who had remained silent throughout the meeting, finally spoke. “You mean the soldiers from Valand City?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Kayson frowned. “Then what do we do? If the Qin Empire returns while our forces are in disarray, we’ll be overrun before we can even put up a fight.”
“There’s no need to panic—not with Hayden Hart in command,” Luke said gravely. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already marching his remaining forces back here as we speak.”
Viscount Diego’s frown deepened. “Surely you jest. Why would General Hart abandon Xiu Fortress without a fight?”
“That man is as intelligent as he is ruthless. By now, he will have pieced together the situation just as we have, though he may not yet know that the hidden enemy is Lhair,” Luke said, massaging his sore thigh beneath the table. “Xiu Fortress is too isolated. If he stays, he risks being wiped out by the Qin army to the north or by the hidden enemy lurking in the west. He won’t sit idle and wait for his destruction.”
Comments
musashi
As horrible as expected. Well done. War is butchery and terrible.
