Barcas didn't know how many days he had been running.
Although they stopped at the rectory from time to time to receive healing magic, the mounted warriors became noticeably haggard from the strenuous movement that continued day and night, and the warhorses began to stagger, foaming at the mouths.
Eventually, Barcas split the unit in two.
While the vanguard, composed of relatively mobile light cavalry, moved along the shortest route, the rest of the heavily armored knights pursued the advance party, gathering available forces from the lords in the regions near Kalmor.
Thanks to their relentless race, they were able to reach the entrance of Armund Forest two days earlier than expected.
“Don’t worry too much.”
When they were about halfway through the dense birch forest, Darren approached, breathing heavily, and opened his mouth heavily.
"The Kalmor Guards are not that easy to deal with. Even if the Zrams swarm in and attack all at once, as long as we blockade the gates in time and engage in a defensive battle, we can easily hold out for several months."
Barcas did not bother to answer. He knew that his words were almost self-consolation.
Bjorn Blodar Heimdall had disguised himself as a Paladin with the guarantee of identity from the Great Crusade. This meant that there was someone among the high-ranking clergy of the Central Order cooperating with him.
If there were traitors within the Eastern Order as well, not even a single night could be guaranteed, let alone a few months.
He immediately spurred Tork on his flank and galloped through the dense forest in a single stroke. Not long after, the burnt-out outpost came into view.
Barcas rode his horse toward the collapsed barricade and grimaced at the sight of the corpses scattered around the charred watchtower.
There were roughly twenty or so bodies. Judging by the degree of decomposition, it appeared that at least fifteen days had passed since their deaths. It seemed that communication networks had been cut off in advance to isolate Kalmor.
He gritted his teeth. If other outposts were in the same situation, Kalmor would be completely isolated.
Barcas immediately whipped the reins like a whip to increase the speed even further. Sensing the gravity of the situation, the mounted warriors also chased closely behind him, each driving their warhorses wildly.
How much further did they run like that?
As he emerged from the forest and crossed a gently rising hill, the landscape of his mind, reduced to ruins, came into view at a glance. Upon spotting the thousands of invaders encamped beyond, Barcas immediately drew his sword.
The enemy was encamped in the south and north, launching simultaneous offensives from both sides.
Harsh curses flowed from the mouths of the knights as they watched the sight of dozens of siege weapons lined up along the field, firing cannonballs at the castle tower.
Fortunately, it did not seem that the city had been completely captured yet, but parts of the city walls were severely damaged, and enemy soldiers were pouring in through the gaps in the collapsed retaining walls.
Barcas charged down the hill without hesitation.
His blade, cutting through his burning heart and plunging into the rear of the enemy lines in a single stroke, blew off the head of a soldier who was reorganizing a catapult. At the same time, over fifteen hundred cavalrymen swarmed the enemy's rear like an angry wave.
The siege force, whose attention was entirely focused on attacking the city, could not respond quickly to the surprise attack launched from the rear.
The iron hooves of the warhorses, charging in with the force of a raging storm, instantly crushed hundreds of terrified enemy soldiers, and the enemy ranks collapsed in an instant.
Some infantry units, realizing the situation too late, rushed to support the siege forces, but Wolfram's elite knights had already swept through the enemy lines.
Barcas mercilessly cut off the head of a soldier charging at him while screaming, and then immediately jumped into the collapsed castle wall.
The plunderers guarding the front charged toward him, wielding spear shafts with axe blades. Barcas lightly deflected the enemy soldier's attack and pulled the reins roughly. Immediately, Tork raised his forelegs high and mercilessly trampled the spearman's head.
Upon seeing the scene, the barbarians recoiled and stepped back. Seizing the opportunity, Barcas entered the city, and his gaze quickly swept across the vast street where hand-to-hand combat was raging. The deafening noise of battle echoed from every corner of the main road, where thick clouds of dust had settled.
“Your Excellency, the Grand Duke!”
One old general who saw him shouted loudly.
Barcas narrowed his gaze upon recognizing the man's identity. Modrian, clad in heavy armor, was engaging in combat with two raiders.
Barcas ran straight over and stabbed the enemy soldier in the back.
The man pierced through the torso, let out a scream, and turned to look at him.
Barcas swung his sword diagonally, tearing the man's side, and then cut off the head of the remaining one who was charging at him with a furious face with a single stroke.
The enemy soldiers immediately distanced themselves upon seeing two strong men sliced like butter in the blink of an eye. However, Wolfram's cavalry was positioned behind them. Dozens of warhorses advanced at high speed, instantly filling the main road and sweeping away the enemy.
Upon seeing that sight, a cry of deep emotion burst from Modrian's lips.
"You returned just in time! It seems God hasn't abandoned Kalmor yet!"
Barcas closely examined his surroundings without even glancing at him.
Although the outskirts of the city were in chaos due to the enemy's intrusion, the central area appeared relatively intact. This meant that the enemy's footsteps had not yet reached Raedgo Castle.
The moment he realized that fact, a sense of relief bordering on a shiver spread from deep within his body.
Barcas gripped the hilt of the sword tightly with trembling hands. Only then did he realize that he was engulfed in extreme tension and fear.
Swept up in a dizzying sense of exhaustion, he caught his breath, then soon regained his composure and looked back at Modrian.
"Report the situation as briefly as possible."
"Fifteen days ago... No, it has been three weeks as of today. Not long after Your Excellency set out on the expedition, the barbarian air raids began."
Taking a deep breath, the old man continued his explanation in a much calmer tone.
"Thanks to blockading the gates in time, we barely managed to hold off the initial offensive... but since then, they brought in siege weapons and rained down stones day after day, destroying many of the city's facilities."
"What is the scale of casualties?"
"Civilian casualties were not that severe. Although some residents living outside the fortress walls fell victim, the majority were able to avoid being wiped out thanks to their rapid evacuation into the city. We were also able to minimize major loss of life because citizens living on the outskirts had been evacuated into the fortress in advance."
The man paused for a moment, wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead, and added.
"This is all thanks to Her Highness the Grand Duchess. Thanks to her swift decision, many citizens were able to save their lives."
Barcas, who had been quickly scanning the street where the battle was taking place, paused and turned to look at him.
"What does that mean?"
"Immediately after the air raid began, Her Highness the Grand Duchess took swift action to evacuate the citizens into the castle. Furthermore, she took the initiative with her maids to care for the wounded and spared no effort in providing relief supplies. It is entirely thanks to Her Highness the Grand Duchess that tens of thousands of citizens have been able to hold out until now."
Barcas stared at the old man's face, speechless. Deep respect was evident in Modrian's voice.
He was a man who had been more critical of his wife than anyone else. What on earth happened to make him change his attitude so drastically in just a few weeks?
Barcas was frozen in a daze, overwhelmed by a strange, inexplicable emotion, when a deafening roar came from afar.
Barcas suddenly lifted his head. He saw black smoke rising from the north of the city. He immediately spurred his horse and sped across the chaotic city center.
As he passed the empty square and reached the northern parapet, he saw the outer wall and the fortress tower that had begun to crumble. Barcas’s brow furrowed fiercely as he confirmed the thousands of Zram warriors encamped beyond them.
It looked like there were at least 4,000 people.
He looked back.
The cavalry pursuing him to support him numbered only a little over three hundred. The rest were bogged down clearing out the enemies positioned around the South Gate.
However, if they wait until the main force joins, the enemy will pour into the fortress. They must somehow prevent the enemy from entering until the reinforcements arrive.
Barcas made a quick decision and immediately jumped over the rubble-covered castle walls and charged toward the enemies.
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