Chapter 184
Chapter 184
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 184
Chapter Title: 57. As Gloriously as Flames (2)
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After that, Kals could no longer beg the Queen to come down from the ramparts.
She wouldn't listen anyway, and the situation didn't allow for her to withdraw.
With woefully insufficient forces barely holding the vast outer walls, and the enemy already swarming up in significant numbers mere moments after the battle had begun, if the Empire's knights concentrated here scattered in all directions, several points would collapse in an instant.
The Queen seemed to know better than anyone what role she was playing.
Otherwise, she wouldn't be shouting intermittently to flaunt her presence to the enemy.
She even shifted positions when needed to lure them in.
"We move to the east!"
At her command, Kals and the Royal Knights exerted every ounce of strength to clear a path.
And when she stopped, they stood firm beside her, cutting down the oncoming foes.
Kals let out a breath reeking of blood as he felled yet another enemy. Glancing around, he saw the other Royal Knights gasping raggedly as well.
The dazzling sword flashes had grown dim before he knew it.
Kals gritted his teeth.
Even the Queen was fighting, shooting arrows until her fingers were stained crimson.
As knights, they couldn't dare show weakness.
"Hold on just a little longer."
As he squeezed every last bit of strength to cut down more enemies, the Queen's voice reached him.
"We shall endure, Your Majesty!"
There was no time to ponder what they were holding out for. Kals simply slashed at the enemy with all his might.
Right then, a commotion erupted from inside the ramparts.
Countless footsteps echoed up the stairs.
"Your Majesty! 'Tis Billfeldt! As commanded, I have rallied the willing citizens and come!"
And the Grand Marshal appeared, accompanied by dozens of knights from his command.
"Two thousand citizens of the capital! All fully armed and battle-ready! Grant us your orders!"
At the Grand Marshal's words, the Queen issued her command in a voice still brimming with vigor.
"What is there to wait for? Sweep the enemies from the walls."
"As you command!"
The Grand Marshal, who had briefly knelt before her, sprang up and bellowed.
"Citizens of the capital! Aid our knights and soldiers—drive out the enemy!"
Cheers erupted from all directions at the Grand Marshal's shout.
"Beat the Empire's dogs to death!"
"Protect Her Majesty!"
The citizen militia who ascended the walls weren't trained warriors, but their spirit burned fierce and true.
Resolved to die, they thrust spears and swords recklessly, and the Empire's forces, overwhelmed by the tidal wave of their momentum, were pushed back relentlessly.
But where could they retreat to on the narrow ramparts? Driven to the edge, they bared their teeth and struck at the citizens.
"Argh!"
"My arm!"
Citizens fell dead in droves under the venomous onslaught of the Empire's troops.
"Capital Guard! What are you doing?! Will you stand idle as the citizens you must protect die on enemy blades?!"
The capital's defenders, catching their breath from the citizens' charge, surged forward with furious faces, stabbing at the Empire's soldiers with swords and spears.
Knights unleashed flashing sword auras amid ringing clashes.
Unable to withstand the momentum, the Empire's forces withdrew from the walls.
Thus ended the first clash with the Empire's army besieging the capital.
But the crisis was far from over—the next day, the enemy attacked the ramparts with even greater ferocity.
The capital's soldiers and citizens resisted their assault as one.
Up front, soldiers and militia wielded blades; from behind, women and children hurled stones and boiling oil.
"Three days at most! Two at best! Hold until the Iron Lion Knights arrive!"
Commanders bellowed themselves hoarse, reminding everyone of the reinforcements en route.
But they weren't the only ones aware of the reinforcements—the enemy knew of the kingdom's elite knights and their army approaching as well.
Desperate to seize the capital and capture the Leonberger royals before they arrived, the Empire's forces pressed on relentlessly.
The fighting raged day and night.
"Just one more day!"
Noble Royal Knights collapsed from exhaustion under the Empire knights' combined assaults; valiant capital knights perished leading the charge.
Loyal capital guards, central army troops, spirited militia, and even boys and women who had rolled up their sleeves to defend—all fell one by one before the enemy's ferocious attacks.
"Sir Kals."
The Queen, who hadn't descended the walls for three straight days, showed no tremor despite her fatigue.
Her voice, ironclad and unyielding, instead constricted Kals Yulihi's heart.
"The time has come. You must heed my request."
He had hoped against hope it wouldn't, but the Queen was preparing for the end.
"I cannot obey. How could I presume..."
Kals Yulihi pleaded in a blood-choked voice for her to withdraw her command.
"Once they overrun the outer walls and tighten the noose, there'll be no chance. Do what you must."
"What of Your Majesty?!"
"I've dwelt in the palace as a noble lady for decades, yet my soul lingered amid the harsh northern gales."
At those words, Kals Yulihi's heart plummeted.
He knew full well what that northern soul meant.
The valiant bloodline that fought until exhaustion and yearned to lie upon gale-swept snowfields—she now sought to perish with the crumbling capital.
"Your Majesty must preserve yourself for His Majesty's sake and the Princes'! How can a nation's Queen share the fate of mere ramparts?!"
"My brother fell guarding those 'mere' ramparts amid the gales, as did my father and grandfather before him. For me, sharing fate with them is nothing new."
"Live for the future! Your Majesty can do so much more!"
Gazing at Kals Yulihi, now on the verge of tears, the Queen smiled gently.
"Once I depart, their fury will turn wholly upon the capital's citizens. They'll raze it and scatter like migratory birds. The kingdom will then fight the Empire with discord sown in its rear."
The Queen insisted someone must stay to hold them until the Iron Lions arrived—and that only she could fulfill that role.
"Make haste. Their net is still loose, but it will tighten soon."
No sooner had she spoken than a capital guard shouted.
"The western wall has fallen!"
"No time to delay."
The Queen pushed Kals Yulihi's back.
"Please... please... may we meet again..."
"A hundred capital cavalry and knights await at the north gate."
Kals Yulihi turned and departed. A dozen Royal Knights, at the Queen's nod, followed suit.
Watching their retreating figures, the Queen gripped her bow once more and glared at the enemy.
She nocked an arrow with fingers mangled beyond recognition.
Her expression unwavering, she drew the string.
One shot, two, three.
She loosed, and arrows flew.
Four, five, six.
Each arrow that arced through the sky claimed an enemy life.
But far more defenders and citizens were dying.
Seven, eight.
Suddenly, an old memory flashed through her mind.
Fifty paces away, a man who had missed a stationary target grinned triumphantly at her as if he'd conquered the world.
Ballerhards could hit such a target blindfolded. She'd struggled not to laugh at his puffed-up pride.
In the end, she wasted two arrows stifling her mirth.
'They call you an unerring archer—why did you miss that day?'
Years later, when the man had become king, he still wondered. She couldn't admit she'd trembled from laughter at his foolishness.
She couldn't say the pitiful sight of a future king agonizing over a woman for three years, honing his archery, had shaken her aim.
So she just smiled.
Mistaking it for delight in him, he beamed.
That amused her further.
Forgetting even her pain, she smiled now, slowly drawing the string with her mangled fingers.
She held her breath and aimed.
"Hoo."
She inhaled briefly and stilled her breath.
The string snapped free.
The arrow soared. Unlike before, it flew true.
The tenth arrow flew heavenward. An unnamed knight rallying his troops on the wall took it through a gap in his armor and perished.
The eleventh, twelfth—none missed.
"Thirteen. Fourteen."
She murmured softly.
"Fifteen."
The arrow pierced a life.
"Sixteen..."
As she drew for the sixteenth, the string snapped with a twang.
The northern strongbow had reached its limit after three grueling days.
Margarita cast aside the bow that had been her lifelong companion.
She drew her sword from her waist.
"The Queen's there!"
Empire troops swarming the blackened walls spotted her and charged.
"My only regret is you promising youths serving the wrong master, meeting such a cruel end."
"Speak not so, Your Majesty. Every moment in your service has been honorable."
The Royal Knights bowed their heads briefly.
"We wished to serve to the end, but fate decrees otherwise. Farewell in advance. Preserve yourself."
"Infinite respect to Queen Margarita!"
With that, the Royal Knights unleashed their blades upon the onslaught.
The Empire's forces couldn't close in easily against the kingdom's elite, death-defying knights.
But even ten hands can't block a hundred—the knights all perished gloriously under combined assaults.
The capital's citizens filled the void.
"Your Majesty! We'll buy time—flee at once!"
Fools who would shatter under a single blow dared thrust spears at Empire knights.
"It has been my honor to stand with you."
"Nay, Your Majesty. We shall protect you. Please, leave this place..."
A burly man spoke boldly—then his head flew.
"Protect the Queen!"
Men screamed, forming a wall with their bodies.
But knights' blades cleaved soft flesh like paper; they soon collapsed in sprays of blood.
Women filled their places.
Palace maids.
Trembling with daggers they could scarcely wield, they refused to yield.
An Empire knight spat curses.
Now they cried of knighthood? Their retreat looked pathetic.
"Stand aside. I am not one to hide behind my people—I stand before them."
The Queen tightened her grip and ordered the maids.
But they stood firm to the end.
Knights fell back; soldiers advanced spears.
Their eyes on the lovely maids—untouchable beauties—gleamed with base lust.
"What you must guard is not my safety, but your own honor."
As she spat words sharp as blades,
Phewww. Boom! Boom!
Signal flares rose from afar.
Two in total.
The first signaled the princes and princesses had escaped the capital unharmed; the second, the Grand Marshal was withdrawing with surviving forces.
By rights, a third from her should follow.
But she neither drew a flare nor turned to flee.
She had never intended to escape.
Someone had to stay, draw eyes while allies withdrew—and delay until the Iron Lions arrived, if possible.
And she deemed it her role.
Indeed, her presence on the walls had let the two groups slip away unnoticed.
She felt she had admirably fulfilled her duty.
The final moment neared.
Soldiers reversed spears, shoving maids aside as they advanced.
The maids slashed back even as they fell, but couldn't overcome the brutes—and faced imminent violation.
Rather than live shamed, the maids embraced soldiers and hurled themselves from the walls.
Twenty maids plummeted, clutching foes.
Soldiers peered down, faces ashen.
"Surrender, and you'll live—though you'll endure shame."
Knight who had withdrawn advanced, urging her surrender.
The Queen dropped her sword.
The Empire knights thought her yielding—but no.
"I lived dimmed, yet burned like flame in my final moments. That suffices."
Instead of surrendering, she walked to the rampart's edge.
"B-block her!"
Knights realized too late and lunged.
But before they could seize her, she leapt.
We couldn't keep our promise to depart together. Don't be angry.
Accomplish all, and come late... late.
Adrift in weightlessness, Margarita closed her eyes.