https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-356-Belon-Castle-Ferenz-Viscounty-Belon-Castle-/13676692/
Chapter 357: The Players' Siege
Viscount Horace stood atop the tower of Castles, gazing at the distant line of dark specks, his legs trembling beneath him.
“They’re coming.”
“It’s the army of the Kingdom of Ashen!”
“They’re here!”
Knight Mithra stood silently beside him, hand resting on his sword, his expression unwavering—prepared, to the very end, to fall in battle for the lord he swore allegiance to.
“Are we going to die?”
“By Tampas, no…”
The soldiers within Castles trembled with fear. The army of the Kingdom of Ashen had become a legend feared even by children—so terrifying that their mere name could silence a crying infant. In myth, they were said to be invincible, born from the very essence of destruction.
A majestic, grand, and passionate melody echoed from the horizon—like a herald of doom.
Unbeknownst to them, this was just a bored Player dragging a portable speaker, humming along to Victory as he marched forward, blasting the soundtrack through the wasteland.
Inside Beuron Keep, the air grew utterly still. Every breath was held, every heartbeat suspended—waiting for the inevitable.
“Finally… it’s begun.”
“What does the legendary Dragon Legion truly look like?”
Knight Mithra murmured, his mind conjuring a vision so horrific it choked his breath:
Dozens of monstrous, dragon-possessed Great Goblins and Ogres erupting from the horizon, roaring with aura-shattering war cries that shook the earth and sent mountains trembling.
It wasn’t mere fantasy. These were the words of survivors—men who had fled in terror.
But what came next utterly shattered their expectations—leaving them utterly bewildered.
Only about a hundred figures stumbled into view across the distant skyline.
No formation. No discipline. Just a chaotic, ragged charge—like a swarm of headless flies.
“What in the name of the gods… is this?”
“What kind of force is this?”
Even the seasoned Knight Mithra felt his mind reeling.
Normally, elite, standardized armor was the hallmark of a disciplined army. Yet these invaders wore everything—patchwork rags, mismatched steel, and some even fought completely naked.
“Are you kidding me? Can a mob like this even defeat an allied force?”
“The so-called Cataclysmic Army… is this it?”
“Hah, this is worse than the city’s own guard!”
The soldiers on the City Tower relaxed, their tension melting into idle chatter.
Beuron Keep held nearly six hundred Home soldiers—according to Northern Regions military doctrine, it would take at least triple their numbers to breach such a fortress, unless the enemy could fight like a hundred men per one.
But these Players? They looked more like a drunken festival than an army. No one could believe they were the feared Dragon Legion.
The only thing worth noting was the Wyvern soaring above.
“WHAAAAA!”
“Siege!”
“Northern Region scum, die!”
The music reached its crescendo. The Players roared their battle cries—wild, unhinged, like demons howling through the wind.
Soldiers on the City Wall and Tower raised their bows, lining up their shots on the charging horde.
Mithra stepped forward, standing at the front, his gaze cold and piercing.
“Leave now, outsiders!”
“This is House Lott’s domain!”
“Even with the favor of the Dragon’s chosen, you—mere bandits—cannot break the Unbreakable Belon Castle!”
In the Player community, a man known as Gustav glared at the Knight on the tower, seething.
“That NPC’s so full of himself. We’re right at the gate, and he still won’t shut up?”
“Loves to talk, does he?”
“Fine. Give him a taste of real firepower.”
Gustav shoved his cannon into position, adjusted the angle with practiced precision.
He was a member of the Mechanical Divinity—familiar with artillery down to the last bolt.
A thunderous boom split the wasteland.
Boom!
The black shell arced through the sky in a perfect arc, hurtling straight toward the City Tower.
“By the honor of my title, I warn you—”
Mithra’s words were cut short by a spine-chilling shriek.
Before he could finish, a massive shell landed mere meters from him—then exploded.
BOOM—
A towering dust cloud erupted.
Half the City Tower collapsed in ruin, stone fragments raining down like hail. The entire fortress trembled.
Limbs were torn apart. Corpses charred black. Dozens of soldiers were obliterated in an instant.
But Knight Mithra survived—his full plate armor, reinforced by the bodies of his comrades acting as living shields, saved him from the blast.
He crawled from the rubble, coughing, his body screaming in agony.
He stared at the devastation around him, disbelief etched across his face.
“This… this is impossible.”
His heart sank.
He finally understood—he had been deceived by illusion.
Now he grasped why the army of the Kingdom of Ashen was said to be invincible.
“What… was that?”
“How could it reach us from so far away?”
“By the gods… the Kingdom of Ashen truly is invincible.”
One single probe from the Players had shattered the soldiers’ morale.
Their fortress—their sanctuary—now felt as fragile as paper.
Clang, clang, clang, clang—
The grand, majestic background music returned—this time, the infamous Nuclear Experience Points Explosion Anthem, aLIEz.
“AAAAAAH!”
“Brothers, prepare for the charge!”
“It’s on fire! It’s on fire!”
The Players roared, surging forward in a frenzy.
Gustav, cigarette in mouth, patted the still-hot barrel of his cannon, muttering under his breath:
“Damn it… missed the shot.”
“Don’t let them get close!”
“Kill them!”
Mithra, bloodied and broken, raised his longsword, voice raw with pain.
“Quick! Fire!”
Arrows flew from the walls. Monoliths were hurled from the towers—weapons that had once been unstoppable in every past defense.
But this time, they failed.
Most of the Players involved in the siege were veterans of the internal test—professionals at Level 5+ standard. Ordinary attacks meant nothing to them.
Take Great威 Tianlong, the famed Monk Player.
With the agility of a ghost, he danced through the storm of arrows raining from the walls—leaping, twisting, flipping—then, with a flick of his wrist, deflected the arrows back at the soldiers.
“Leaping Armor Class: Rooftops!”
With a single toe tap, he vaulted over the City Wall with ease.
“Brothers, I’m back to grind again!”
Surrounded by a dozen elite guards, he didn’t flinch. Instead, he laughed—then unleashed a barrage of punches, each infused with a ripple of Qi that pierced through armor and struck deep into the soldiers’ bodies.
“Resonance Qi: Punch!”
Then, with a thunderous clap of his palms, he detonated the energy within them.
“Resonance Qi: Explosion!”
BOOM!
The soldiers’ bodies exploded from within—blood poured from every orifice. They collapsed like sacks of meat, lifeless.
A ring of dust spread outward—only Great威 Tianlong remained standing, grinning, teeth gleaming white.
“Haha! Another sweet kill! Perfect.”
Mithra stared, frozen, at the Players—each one displaying powers beyond mortal limits.
And in that moment, a chilling thought struck him.
They weren’t fighting.
They were playing.
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
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