Chapter 444 — The Northern Gate
Blade of Dawn · Page 1 of 3
The battle was over.
Once Boulder Fortress's southern wall lost the protection of its shield, it was utterly helpless against the heavy magic-crystal shells, and the event proved that against a solid, rigid target like a wall, the crystal shells did far more damage than the Calibrator beams. Sir Marchi had believed the fortress could still hold out for several dozen minutes after the shield went dark, but in the end he had misjudged the difference between shells and energy beams: the wall lasted sixteen minutes.
The fortress's heavy gate had collapsed entirely under the bombardment, and with it the hundreds of yards of rampart stretching out to either side; every arrow tower, prism, and outer mage tower within that span was annihilated, while the outer city and the southern inner city behind the rampart had suffered damage of varying degrees, and the barracks, armories, and other facilities concentrated between the first and second walls had been razed to the ground.
Damage on this scale was unthinkable in a traditional war between nobles: the Cecil army had ended the battle only after smashing the fortress's defenses to pieces, leaving the men inside Boulder Fortress no room at all to hold out or bargain.
After the bombardment ceased, the Cecil First and Second Combat Legions, led by Philip and Sir Wald Perrich, advanced on the fortress and reached the now-defenseless stronghold by evening. What struck Sir Wald most was this: his troops had spent more time on the road, marching to take possession of the prize, than they had spent destroying the fortress's defenses.
The First and Second Legions met almost no resistance upon entering Boulder Fortress — in fact, there was no resistance at all. If anything deserved the name, it was a terrified pony that came bolting out of the rubble, which was probably the only enemy the soldiers faced.
On the evening of the 58th day of the Fire Month, Ansu Year 736, the banner representing the Ansu royal house slipped from the flagpole before the castle of Boulder Fortress and fell away; the sword-and-plough mark of the Cecil family rose fluttering above that fortress of special significance.
Gao Yang's war boots crossed flagstones that seemed still warm and trembling; on either side of him lay ruins and buildings still trailing smoke, and the fortress soldiers stood along the road, stricken of face, soot-blackened and bedraggled. As the Cecil banner passed before them, they flung themselves down in submission.
"Lock them all up in the dungeons under the castle for now; where there aren't enough rooms, use the solid buildings in the inner city," Gao Yang said in a low voice to Philip beside him. "Mistreatment of prisoners and injury to the wounded are strictly forbidden. Send medical teams to treat their wounds — these people will be part of Cecil."
Philip drew himself up and saluted. "Understood."
Sir Marchi, disarmed and ashen-faced, walked beside Gao Yang under escort by several Cecil soldiers. He had heard what Gao Yang said to Philip, and could not help lifting his head, a flicker of surprise in his eyes: "I did not expect you to still be observing the spirit of nobility..."
"The ban on mistreating prisoners has nothing to do with any so-called noble spirit," Gao Yang said, glancing at the former commander. Honorable knight though the man was, he was plainly a traditional noble first and foremost. "The 'prisoners' I forbid you to mistreat include far more than knights and nobles."
Sir Marchi opened his mouth, but in the end said nothing, and only lowered his head again.