EFB Chapter 161 The Arthurians' Revenge and the Panic in Nardu
Chapter 161 The Arthurians' Revenge and the Panic in Nardu
Chapter 161 The Arthurians' Revenge and the Panic in Nardu
The next day, on the city wall of the capital.
"Soldiers!"
Layton Arthur's voice echoed across the city walls, no longer the hollow, cold voice of yesterday, but infused with a suppressed intensity...
Burning hatred.
He looked down at the soldiers gathered below, their faces a mixture of exhaustion, fear, and a renewed burning desire for revenge.
"Look at our land!"
He swung his arm sharply, pointing to the charred battlefield outside the city, still stained with the smoke and blood of battle, and further away, to the devastated land trampled by Nar's iron hooves.
"They were ravaged by the enemy's iron hooves! Our wheat fields were burned, our villages were reduced to ruins!"
His voice grew louder and louder, filled with a tearing pain.
"Think of our loved ones!"
His gaze swept across the faces of the soldiers, as if he could see the scars in each of their hearts.
"Our fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, and children! Some of them fell on the road of escape, while others cried out in agony as they died under the swords of the Nar people!"
"Have you all forgotten the tragedy in Kate City?! Those mountains of corpses, those rivers of blood—have you all forgotten?!"
"No!"
Below, a soldier finally let out a suppressed growl, his eyes red.
Many people's breathing became heavy, and their hands gripping their weapons trembled slightly with anger.
Yesterday's fears are being overshadowed by more primal hatred.
"I haven't forgotten!"
Layton's voice was like a thunderclap. He pounded his chest violently, the action carrying a fierce, almost self-destructive intensity.
"Every night, I hear their cries! Every moment, I see the arrogant, contemptuous grins of the Nar people!"
He paused, allowing the hatred to fester and spread within the army.
"Yes! I brought power!"
He acknowledged, pointing to the silent, ominous, dark army standing outside the city.
"They look terrifying! They come from a place beyond the comprehension of ordinary people! But it was this terrifying power that crushed the invincible army of Nar into dust yesterday! It was this power from the Silent Forest that won us the opportunity for revenge!"
He no longer concealed the source of his power, but instead firmly linked it to "revenge".
"Some people asked me about the price! What I paid!"
Layton's voice suddenly lowered, taking on a chilling hoarseness.
"What I have given is far more than you can imagine! What I have given is my soul! It is everything I have for the future!"
All for one chance—a chance for you, for every Arthurian man with blood in his veins, to avenge the blood debt with your own hands!
This statement, though only partially true, was extremely persuasive.
As the soldiers looked at their prince, who seemed to bear an endless burden, a sense of shared hatred and tragic heroism welled up within them.
"Now, the opportunity is right in front of you!"
Layton abruptly drew his sword, its blade pointing directly towards the Duchy of Nar. Sunlight shone on the blade, but reflected a cold gleam, just like his gaze at that moment.
"These allies!"
He pointed again at the dark army.
"They will not take over our homes! They will not harm our people! Their blades, their claws, their power, will only point in one direction—our mortal enemy, Nar!"
"They will clear the way for us! They will tear apart the Nar's defenses! And you..."
His voice rose to its peak, like the thunder of war drums.
"You will follow closely behind! With your swords, reclaim our lost land! With the blood and cries of the Nar, pay tribute to our fallen kin!"
"This is not aggression! This is righteous revenge! This is blood for blood, tooth for tooth!"
"Tell me, Arthur's warriors! Are you willing to cower behind the walls, lick your wounds, and await the calamity that may come again at any time?"
"Or are you willing to follow me, follow your vengeful prince, take up arms, and repay those damned Nar people a thousandfold, a hundredfold, for the pain and despair we have endured?!"
"revenge!"
Finally, a soldier, completely consumed by hatred, shouted out in a hoarse voice.
"revenge!!"
Ten, a hundred, hundreds of voices rose up, merging into a wave of sound filled with violence and killing intent, dispelling the previous fear and doubt!
"A blood debt must be paid in blood!!"
"Kill all the Nar people!!"
The army's morale was ignited, fueled by the pain of losing loved ones, the anger over the destruction of their homes, and the prospect of revenge depicted by the prince.
As for the terrifying origins of those monsters? That has been temporarily suppressed by a fervent desire for revenge.
As Layton looked down at the surging army, at those faces twisted with hatred, a twisted pleasure seemed to stir within his cold heart.
That's right, that's it.
Direct all hatred and fear outwards.
He turned the entire country into a machine for his revenge.
In this way, the enormous price he paid seemed to have meaning.
He raised his longsword high.
"For Arthur!"
"For—revenge!"
"Let's march!"
The city gates opened again.
This time, what emerged was not a desperate defender, but an army driven by the flames of revenge.
Leading the way were those silent and terrifying creations of darkness.
Closely following behind were Arthur's soldiers, their eyes bloodshot, roaring slogans of revenge.
A campaign driven by dark magic and carried out in the name of revenge has begun.
As Layton sat regally on his horse, a hint of regret flickered in the depths of his eyes, but in the end, only those who were in sync with the army behind him remained.
Cold darkness.
Inside the magnificent royal council chamber of the Duchy of Nar.
The heavy, gold-embroidered carpet absorbed most of the footsteps, but at that moment, a chaotic, panicked running sound came from afar, violently breaking the solemn atmosphere of the hall.
"Your Majesty! Something terrible has happened!"
A messenger practically tumbled into the hall, his armor askew, his face covered in soot and sweat mixed with extreme fear, his voice hoarse and distorted, completely losing the composure he usually displayed as an elite messenger.
On the throne, Grand Duke Nar—a stout, richly dressed man enjoying wine served by a maid—frowned unhappily.
Several noble generals around him, dressed in fine clothes and who had been chatting and laughing, also cast disapproving glances their way.
"presumptuous!"
A nobleman closest to the throne shouted sternly.
"What a flustered and disorderly manner! You have disturbed the King; what punishment do you deserve!"
"It's—it's the front lines! General Krov, he—"
The messenger collapsed to the ground, his voice broken and intermittent from rapid breathing and fear.
"Krov?"
Grand Duke Nar slowly took a sip of wine, a smug smile on his face.
"Has good news arrived? I've said it before, Arthur is a tough nut to crack, but it won't take long."
Has he already breached the capital? Or has he captured that old bastard Risso?
In his view, the only news that could come was of victory, with perhaps some setbacks along the way.
"No—no—"
The messenger abruptly raised his head, his face drained of color, his pupils dilated with terror.
"It's a rout! A complete rout! General Krov—he—he's dead!"
"What?!"
"Nonsense!"
"That's impossible!"
The council chamber erupted in chaos!
The noble generals all stood up, their faces filled with disbelief.
Grand Duke Nar's smile froze, and the golden cup in his hand fell to the thick carpet with a clatter, the crimson wine staining the surface like blood.
"Say that again?!"
The Grand Duke's voice suddenly rose, filled with shock and anger.
"Krove brought a full 30,000 elite troops! Arthur only has a lone city and a bunch of defeated soldiers left! How could he possibly lose?!"
"Died in battle?!"
"Yes—it's true! Your Majesty!"
The messenger's voice was choked with sobs, and his body trembled like a leaf.
"We—we've encountered—a monster! It's not human!"
He began to describe incoherently, his voice filled with nightmarish trembling: "It's Arthur's prince! Layton! He's back! He didn't come back alone! He brought—he brought an army crawled out of hell!"
"A monster made of shadows! It can emerge from the shadows and kill people!"
"A wolf-headed man stronger than a mammoth! He can tear a person apart alive!"
"And there's a headless knight! Just looking at him makes me feel like my soul is being sucked away!"
"And—and lots of weirdos with other things sewn onto their bodies! And a bunch of wizards who can cast dark magic!"
"Our arrows were useless! Magic! They can use terrible magic! General Crove—he—it seems like a wizard just pointed a finger at him, and—he turned into a charred, dried-up corpse!"
The messenger's description was chaotic and horrifying, filled with immense psychological shock.
He couldn't accurately describe the details of those supernatural beings, but the fear that emanated from the soul was genuinely conveyed to everyone present.
A deathly silence fell over the hall.
The nobles, who had been so boisterous just moments before, were now speechless and pale. They looked at each other, and in each other's eyes they saw the same surprise and—a chill creeping up.
If the messenger is telling the truth—
Grand Duke Nar's obese body trembled slightly, not from anger, but from an unknown fear.
He was used to wars waged by overwhelming force, used to calculating troop strength, equipment, and provisions, but what the messenger described was completely beyond his comprehension.
"A black... black wizard?"
An older nobleman murmured, his lips trembling.
"The Silent Forest—they actually intervened?"
The word seemed to possess a magical power, causing the temperature in the hall to drop even further.
The terrifying legends about dark wizards were no longer distant topics of conversation, but rather an imminent, real threat capable of destroying them.
"Them—how many of them are there?"
Another general asked, trying to remain calm.
"No—I don't know—it seems like not many—but, but we can't possibly defeat them! Our people crumble at the first touch! They kill people like—like mowing grass!"
The messenger clutched his head, as if he were back in that bloody slaughterhouse.
"Now—now Arthur's army, along with those monsters, is—is already marching towards us! They're shouting—for revenge! For blood to be paid for!"
Revenge! Blood for blood!
These two words struck the hearts of every Nar nobleman like a heavy hammer.
They themselves knew best the brutality of the war they had just waged against Arthur. If he truly gained that power and returned for revenge—
Grand Duke Nar abruptly stood up from his throne, his fat face trembling with fear.
"Quickly! Send the order down! Strengthen defenses in all border cities! Close all passages! Now!"
His voice was shrill and filled with panic, a far cry from his previous composure.
"And another thing! Quickly go and invite—invite Master Dahl!!!"
"
He was like someone grasping at a last straw, shouting frantically at the guards.