FL - Chapter 72: The Fall

Elsewhere in Snowhawk City, Count Firth was already kneeling amid blood and rubble in a shattered alley.

Embers had burned holes through his silk robe, and the mana-crystal rings that once covered his fingers had been lost during his flight.

The knights who died escorting him from the city lay all around.

"I-I am Count Firth of House Firth!" he wailed, his cheek pressed against the frozen stones like a beaten dog.

He tried to crawl away, but a Snowsworn warrior planted a boot on his back and crushed him flat.

"Spare me, my lord! I have money, mines, and a castle. I'll give you everything. Please don't kill me!"

The warrior laughed. "If we kill you, won't all of it belong to us anyway?"

Firth panicked. "I'll be your slave! Your beast of burden! I can even lure other northern nobles into traps!"

Barnes approached in a gray-white cloak, enemy blood streaking his face. He moved with the leisure of a predator returning from a successful hunt.

He looked down at the groveling figure. "You're Count Firth?"

Firth raised his tear-and-snot-covered face. "Yes, my lord! Show mercy! I'll swear myself to you—no, I'll be your dog! Just let me live! I'll obey anything!"

"Enough."

The display was so shameless that Barnes lost all interest in tormenting him.

He waved dismissively, looking at Firth like a crushed insect.

"Break his limbs and take him back. He'll be offered as a blood sacrifice."

Barnes turned away, unwilling to soil his eyes with another glance.

"Wh-what? No! NO!"

Both of Firth's arms snapped at once. He screamed and thrashed like a fish on a cutting board.

A Mad Wolf warrior stepped forward and broke both legs with practiced efficiency.

The crack of bone carried through the night beneath Firth's screams.

"Help me! I don't want to die!"

His cries echoed among the ruins without stirring anyone.

They were only one fragment of the tragedy consuming the city.

The Snowsworn flooded through Snowhawk City like an unchecked tide.

Within the walls, they became beasts freed from every chain.

Noble mansions became hunting grounds. Nobles who hadn't escaped were dragged outside, forced to kneel, and beheaded against their white walls.

Their wives and daughters screamed through the streets.

The Snowsworn showed no mercy.

They stole jewels, burned portraits, and smashed ivory chairs. One warrior threw a crying child into the fire simply because the noise annoyed him.

Captives were dragged to the walls and forced to shout, "Long live the Snow Kingdom!"

Those unable to speak were killed. Those who obeyed lost their tongues anyway because their cries were judged insincere.

The common people had nowhere to flee.

Fire consumed the wooden buildings. Blood mixed with mud and filth across the streets.

Anyone who blocked a warrior's path was cut down, regardless of age or sex.

Some victims were flayed alive. Others became targets for thrown weapons. Severed heads were mounted on spears before noble gates.

The Mad Wolf Unit was the most savage of all.

They burned captives alive before bonfires, then howled and danced around the screaming victims.

This was their victory feast.

They carved the mark of the Snowsworn into Snowhawk City with slaughter and fire.

The conquered city could only endure, though most of its people had done nothing.

One small mercy remained. Under Viscount Webster's final orders, the granaries had burned completely, leaving not a single grain.

The treasury survived only in part, and its gold, silver, and jewels were useless to the campaign.

Barnes stood on the city wall and gazed into the distance.

Above him flew the old Snow Kingdom's banner, its white cloth streaked with blood.

The Empire's dragon banner lay beneath his feet in a pool of blood, its design smeared beyond recognition.

Barnes knew what was happening below. Fires burned throughout the city, the cries never stopped, and the blades in the alleys had not rested.

He gave no order to stop them.

"The warriors need release," he told his guards. "If I were younger, I'd be even more ruthless."

He leaned on his bloodstained blade and laughed. "Perhaps I'll find a noblewoman later."

Hurried footsteps interrupted his triumph.

A wolf rider reached the wall with a blood-covered warrior.

"Lord Barnes!" The wounded man collapsed. "Clearfeather Ridge... Clearfeather Ridge has fallen!"

Barnes's smile froze.

"What?"

The knight beside him hurried to explain. "Several other survivors from Clearfeather Ridge report the same thing!"

Barnes stared at the dying warrior. "How did it fall? How many enemies? Where did they come from?"

"A night raid. We don't know... perhaps two hundred men. But..."

"But what?"

"We never saw them clearly... and then it was over."

Silence spread along the battlements.

"Impossible," Barnes muttered. "Clearfeather Ridge is naturally defensible. Even a night raid couldn't take it so quickly."

Unease entered his eyes.

Snowhawk City's granaries were gone, leaving him almost no supplies.

His only supply line ran from the Snowsworn base in Ice Sea County.

Mountain ranges and narrow passes separated Ice Sea County from Snowpeak County. Clearfeather Ridge was the most important artery between them.

If it had fallen, Snowhawk City had become an isolated island.

"Damn it!"

Barnes looked toward the southern mountains. "Even if it was luck, I can't gamble."

He issued an immediate order.

"Send eight hundred wolf riders and cavalry along the eastern mountain route. Retake Clearfeather Ridge at once!"

To recover the position as quickly as possible, Barnes committed most of his mobile forces.