Chapter 44
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Chapter 44: The Siege of Joseph Castle
After eliminating two thousand-man teams and a five hundred-man unit, the blitzkrieg lost much of its impact. General Red Fox wasn’t some straw dummy waiting to be hit—his reactions were swift, and his orders spread even faster. Once the Blue Water Village garrison fell, all scattered enemy squads rapidly withdrew toward their main forces.
Intercepting them now grew difficult, with risks of encountering multiple enemy reinforcements. But Midi never planned to prolong the blitzkrieg. It had merely been a tactical buffer against the enemy’s early aggression—or more precisely, a psychological ploy by the master strategist Midi to intimidate the enemy into retreating, surrendering control of vast territories.
With these lands undefended, the two-thousand-strong Elven army gained room to maneuver without constant battles, enabling true rapid advancement. Now that the enemy’s territorial dominance had been shattered, Midi saw no need to chase petty skirmish victories. The real battle had arrived, and his first target was Joseph family’s stronghold—Joseph Castle.
The fall of Asreks’ castle would end the war, but capturing Joseph Castle would deliver an equally seismic blow. Eliminating a count-level Senator’s faction member would cripple both the faction and the Sais family’s reputation. As a noble house already under Delos Empire’s influence, this strike would ripple through unseen power struggles.
When cold-faced, elegantly armored Elven warriors materialized beneath Joseph Castle’s walls, panic erupted. The defenders gaped in disbelief—how had the enemy reached their gates so soon after young Master Quinn marched out with his grand army? Stewards, servants, and branch family members alike descended into chaos.
Yet the veteran defender, Lanst Joseph—Count Joseph’s brother and Quinn’s uncle—soon steadied himself. His loyalty to Quinn and defensive expertise made him the obvious choice to guard the castle. Quinn, schemer though he was, trusted Lanst with this vital task.
“That brat Midi abandoned defense to gamble on a full assault?” Lanst scoffed as Elven forces occupied a distant high ground. “Fifteen hundred defenders under my command—what can those spindly Elves achieve?”
The old general embodied seasoned leadership. He patrolled the walls in armor, longsword in hand, calming the frightened crowd. Orders flowed meticulously: a thousand regulars and five hundred reserves mobilized, defenses stocked with rolling logs, boiling oil. He even discreetly reinforced guards around the comatose Count Joseph, thwarting potential elite team kidnappings.
Every detail was addressed. Lanst respected Midi despite his youth, leveraging the castle’s thick walls, catapults, ballistae, and magic arrays—advantages honed over generations. If ten thousand troops struggled against Asreks’ three-thousand-strong castle, how could two thousand Elves threaten Joseph’s fifteen hundred defenders?
Impossible! Lanst vowed to hold for months if needed, ignoring provocations until Crimson Flame Legion crushed Asreks.
Yet Midi didn’t attack. The Elves camped a kilometer away on that scenic high ground where Count Joseph once rode and Quinn spied on bathing women. Lanst frowned—why there?
This high ground held no significance for a siege. Not only were the Elves’ arrows and magic ineffective from such distance, but even the largest catapults of the Belmar Duchy couldn’t hurl stones reaching the city walls from there. The sparse surrounding forest offered no trunks tall enough for proper siege engines.
Truth be told, the Elven army hadn’t prepared for siege at all. After establishing camp, they’d only dispatched multiple hundred-man teams to eliminate Joseph family’s hidden scouts before falling inactive.
There must be conspiracy here! Every moment mattered for the Asreks family – they wouldn’t waste time on feints. Something major brewed behind this stillness. Poisoning underground water sources? Secret tunnel-digging? Infiltration by experts? Or perhaps fresh reinforcements approaching?
Lanst kept theorizing without progress. An unseen enemy remained most fearsome, yet the seasoned commander hid his anxiety, refusing to waver in his decisions. What if that cunning youngster Midi was merely waging psychological warfare? He kept waiting.
The second day passed without movement from Midi’s side. Only at third dawn did the long-silent Elven army stir.
Great Swordsmen, paladins, magicians, wandering gunslingers, and Nightblade Leopard Cavalry streamed from camp in orderly fashion – eighteen hundred-man teams deploying, leaving mere three hundred in reserve. Nearly their full force.
The units halted precisely beyond ballistae range below the walls, swiftly forming ranks. Flowing columns solidified into dense formations: tower shield-bearing paladins fronted two-handed swordsmen, with clerics and magicians at rear. Wandering gunslingers flanked the magic units while elite Nightblade Leopard Cavalry anchored both wings like twin blades.
Layered tower shields created iron walls, spears and sharp swords protruding like death’s glittering fangs. Surging magic currents mingled with gathered holy light at fingertips, conjuring terrifying waves of destructive energy.
A flawless defensive formation!
"What’s their aim?" Lanst finally voiced his days-old question.
The answer came instantly.
Dawnlight dimmed momentarily as winds stilled. Rippling azure light bloomed like waterborne roses across the distant high ground.
A razor-thin beam lanced from the glowing epicenter – brighter than sword glare, swifter than lightning. In blink’s time, it struck the city wall!
An invisible giant hammer’s blow cratered the wall, spiderweb cracks radiating outward. Quaking battlements threw several soldiers to their deaths below before screams formed.
The roaring sound arrived belatedly, followed by air-rending winds that whipped flags and stung faces.
Wind resumed flowing around an invisible scar – the beam’s vacuum trail.
Staring at the four-horse-wide crater, Lanst’s mind blanked. Now he understood Midi’s delayed assault. No siege needed – with such long-range attacks, Joseph Castle would soon crumble!
The defensive formation made sense too – preventing desperate sallies from cornered defenders.
All strategies, experience, defensive advantages – everything shattered with that single strike. Before crumbling walls, it was Lanst Joseph who first tasted despair.
Meanwhile at the magic array’s heart, the red-haired girl frowned.
"First shot’s accuracy disappointed," Fina pouted. Normally composed, she effortlessly showed girlish charm around Midi.
"No matter," Midi smiled. "We’ve time enough."
