Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 983: Chapter 982: Initiative

As soon as the orders were officially issued, Jinna found that all her tension and anxiety had disappeared, and the instinct of a soldier gradually took control. She took a deep breath, communicating the orders to the entire Dragon Cavalry Squadron while steadily grasping the control lever in front of her, feeling the power and coldness transmitted by the steel machinery, with a calm heart.

One after another, antigravity aircraft shaped like inverted cones swiftly traced elegant arcs among the clouds, leaving their previous patrol routes and heading towards the sparkling battleground on the earth.

Wind direction and speed calculation completed, altitude and speed within expected values, bombing angles and distances confirmed multiple times, the bombardier placed his finger over a Rune Trigger in the center of the console, silently counting.

"Release all bomb locks—unlock the safety mechanism—drop the bombs!"

...

The night offensive of the Cecil Clan showed no sign of stopping, with deafening artillery explosions constantly resonating over the city walls. This was the harshest test Winterwolf Fortress had ever faced since its establishment; indeed, it was a war scenario never experienced since the founding of Typhon. Even the brave imperial army and proud combat Mages felt shaken in the face of such a massive attack—but regardless, the defense line held steady, with Winterwolf Fortress’s solid barrier and walls standing the test, at least for a short period, keeping Cecil Clan’s "Skyfire" out.

Count Palin Winterhold observed the flow of magic power on the surface of the barrier over the western city wall, breathing a slight sigh of relief: "The magic circuit has stabilized again... Looks like the magic focal point is holding."

"But purely holding is not a solution," Andresha said, "Count Winterhold, do you remember what we were discussing earlier? We must find a way to break the current situation and regain control..."

She stopped mid-sentence, noticing a vague buzzing that was almost indistinguishable within the background of artillery booms. She looked up at the slightly drowsy night sky with a strange expression.

Count Palin Winterhold didn’t react for a moment: "Andresha, what is it?"

"Count Winterhold, do you hear... anything coming from above?"

The count paused for a moment before raising his head to look, finally catching sight of some shadows barely discernible to the naked eye between the piled clouds and dim starlight.

Those shadows passed overhead, and even legendary powerhouses would find it difficult to detect whether they carried magic power or malice. Nonetheless, the count felt a massive sense of crisis rising within him; for a moment, he felt his breath stutter. In the next second, this powerful mage summoned communication Runes with a wave of his hand and shouted with all his might: "Incoming attack from high above!!!"

"Reset the magic flow—the enemy is coming from the air!" "Mages in teams one to six, adjust the resonance direction, prepare to intercept the aerial attack!" "It’s too late!"

Orders were issued immediately, and despite their confusion, all soldiers and combat Mages began responding to the commander’s instructions with the utmost speed. However, no matter how quick their response, it was already too late—the entire fortress’s defenses were firmly constrained by the ground offensive of the Cecil Clan’s forces. Moreover, none of the commanders held any significant concept that a deadly attack might come from above during an era focused on surface warfare. This became Winterwolf Fortress’s most fatal vulnerability...

The bombs fell.

Andresha’s eyes widened, looking up at the sky where layered clouds had nearly obscured all starlight. She saw glimmers flickering between the shadows before each shimmering point separated, descending like meteors.

Far more terrifying than the bombardment of magic-guided artillery, the explosions shook the sky over Winterwolf Fortress.

Intense fiery light bloomed like fireworks, blasting through the surface of the barrier with visible shockwaves, ripples spreading endlessly in the night sky, connecting into sheets and quickly covered by pale interference. The entire great barrier of Winterwolf Fortress shook violently, and deafening booms reverberated within, as if striking a giant invisible bell. Amid this terrifying sound, Count Winterhold heard an even more dreadful sound—

He heard a howling arising from all directions, a sign of the barrier nearing its limit.

Then, more bombs began falling from high above, like a carpet covering the entire barrier from south to north, with shield nodes across Winterwolf Fortress exploding one after another, buildings within burning due to magic turbulence, illuminating the high walls and sentinel towers with roaring flames. Amidst the glow, Andresha saw the barrier above her head rapidly disappearing.

Finally, an airborne bomb pierced the thinning great shield of Winterwolf Fortress, descending like a meteor between the Outer City District and Inner City District. The overwhelming firelight stabbed Andresha’s eyes, and she felt a roaring sound near her ears. Hot waves assaulted her from the left, and she barely felt any pain before seeing only darkness.

...

"All bombs have been dropped, confirm the target barrier is extinguished." "Visual confirmation that the barracks and arsenal are destroyed..." "Core castle area still intact... barrier remains."

Through the observation window, Jinna looked at Winterwolf Fortress, now engulfed in flames. Post-airstrike results gathered before her one by one.

The great shield of Winterwolf Fortress had been destroyed as planned, but the castle area, the fortress’s heart, seemed to have survived the bombardment—this formidable fortress certainly lived up to its reputation. It apparently possessed two independent shield systems, as even with the Outer City District and great shield demolished, the fortress could still rely on the core castle to continue resisting.

Yet Jinna didn’t feel any disappointment—it was all within the staff’s expectations. A single airstrike couldn’t completely destroy Typhon’s fortress, and the current heavy damage was indeed a predicted outcome.

Having lost the great shield and half of the defense facilities, coupled with the significant morale blow and personnel casualties, taking the fortress was merely a matter of time—and within a short time.

"Return to base, reload," Jinna commanded, "perhaps we’ll come again tonight."

...

Roaring, heat, the scent of blood, the constant feeling of imbalance and falling... Andresha felt herself dragged up and down within a dark abyss by an invisible storm; for some time, she even felt she had lost complete sensation of her body, but in one final strong sensation of weightlessness, she suddenly returned to this world.

The pain like a broken body surged through her nerves intensely. She felt herself lying on something soft while her body was soaked in coldness, her mind thunderously roaring. She vaguely heard voices around her, yet a louder noise buzzed in her ears, making it impossible to make out anything.

The intense feeling of irritation arose; annoyed, she wanted to dispel the noise, not knowing if it was the anger that took effect—she did hear the noise diminish somewhat, and faintly saw light appearing before her.

"The General is awake! The General is awake!" "Water, quickly bring water!" "Go inform Count Winterhold!"

Excited shouts from soldiers came from beside her, and it sounded like more than one.

Andresha struggled to open her eyelids (never imagining her eyelids would be so heavy), and after several attempts, she managed to turn the weak, chaotic light before her into a shaky image—her left eye seemed to be blocked by something, only her right eye barely opened. Through the vague vision, she saw familiar figures standing by her side, while above seemed to be the ceiling of some castle room.

"General," a familiar voice spoke from beside her, "How do you feel? Can you hear me?"

Andresha reluctantly turned her gaze; she saw her adjutant standing next to her.

Her gaze lingered on the adjutant for a long time. Only after a dozen seconds did she manage to withdraw her eyes and, with a voice that startled even herself, hoarsely asked, "How long was I unconscious?"

Her throat felt as if it were on fire, but upon careful sensing, there seemed to be no fatal internal bleeding or tracheal tear, which was a small mercy—though a more careful assessment was difficult, she could only confirm that her physical condition was certainly very poor.

"You were only unconscious for half an hour..." the adjutant responded, "A large dose of alchemical potions and healing spells took effect..."

"Half an hour... I thought a century had gone by," Andresha tugged at the corner of her mouth, "Tell me the damage report."

The adjutant hesitated for one or two seconds before speaking in a low voice, "The fortress barrier was completely destroyed, permanently extinguished. Both inner and outer city districts suffered severe damage, fires are everywhere. We’ve lost the barracks and armory. Those magic weapons fell right through the barrier and hit where the twenty-second regiment was stationed; the twenty-second regiment... is no longer."

Andresha gently inhaled, struggling to discern the voices in the din all around her. After two seconds of silence, she quietly asked, "What’s the current situation?"

"Count Palin Winterhold commanded the able to retreat to the castle area. The outer city can no longer be defended; he ordered us to continue resistance in the castle area and inner city district. The Black Flag Mage Corps collapsed the already severely damaged city walls and set fires in the outer city before retreating; those ruins and fires somewhat delayed the Cecil Clan’s offensive..."

"I indeed heard the sounds outside," Andresha said slowly, "Delayed, you say... so, they’ve already broken in?"

"...Our warriors are resisting them in the inner city district’s ruins and alleyways. We’ve suffered heavy losses, but no one is backing down."

At that moment, Andresha heard some commotion nearby; a soldier was speaking in a low voice: "Count Winterhold is here!"

She saw Palin Winterhold’s figure appear at the edge of her vision. This familiar elder bent towards her, seemingly inspecting her injuries, and she saw a heavy, almost sorrowful expression on his face.

"That’s enough," Andresha said to the adjutant and nearby soldiers and officers, "You all go back and continue directing the battle; I need to speak with Count Winterhold."

"General, your body..."

"This is an order."

"Yes, General."

The adjutant and soldiers left, leaving only Count Winterhold in Andresha’s view. She tugged at the corner of her mouth: "Seems like things can’t get any worse..."

"Things are indeed very bad; we’ve been defeated, Andresha," Count Winterhold said solemnly. "The Cecil Clan will soon completely occupy this place—they, for some reason, haven’t used that dreadful aerial assault again. Perhaps they wish to occupy a more intact forward base... which extends our resistance somewhat, but it won’t be for long."

After this, there was a long period of silence, so silent that even Palin Winterhold began to wonder if Andresha had fallen unconscious again, but eventually, Andresha spoke: "Count Winterhold, what do you believe is a soldier’s duty?"

Palin Winterhold didn’t answer Andresha’s question; he simply watched the young woman whom he’d seen grow up, and after a moment, he asked, "Andresha, what do you intend to do?"

Andresha tried to open her eyes, looking at Count Winterhold’s face: "I still have one last ’initiative’..."

Then she laid out her plan.

Palin Winterhold’s eyes widened; he could hardly believe what he heard, couldn’t believe that Andresha would make such a decision. He then whispered a caution: "This will cost you your honor—no matter the truth, you won’t be favorably recorded in future histories. Andresha, you’re not a regular commander, you’re the ’Wolf General’; you should know the significance and restrictions behind that title..."

"Times have changed, Uncle Palin," Andresha seemed to smile and gently shook her head, "Old codes... can no longer keep up with the changing times."

"...Even if this means you’ll be dishonored?" Palin Winterhold frowned, "I can issue the order on your behalf, given that you’re no longer capable..."

"I’ve decided."

"...Understood," Count Winterhold gazed deeply at Andresha before solemnly nodding. But then he asked, "Do you think this course won’t be disrupted by those contaminated soldiers and officers?"

"I’ve roughly guessed what the gods want," Andresha said calmly, "They want war; they only want war—and surrender is but another aspect of war.

"Let me be the first ’Wolf General’ in Typhon’s history to raise the flag of surrender before the fortress is breached. I am ready."

"...Alright, I’ll go make preparations."

Count Winterhold left.

Andresha lay quietly on the blood-stained bed; her left eye remained closed while, with the other struggling open, she seemed to see past memories, long-faded events from years ago. She recalled visiting this fortress with her father when she was very young, remembered listening in bewildered innocence as he recounted stories of the family ancestors, reciting the vows inscribed beneath the wolf’s head statue. Her lips murmured, as if still following her father’s words—

"...I swear by the family, by honor, to guard this fortress, even to the end of life... even if all my blood spills... crushed to pieces... the Winter Wolf banner must never be lowered..."

She shook her head.

She didn’t want honor.

She wanted her homeland to be safe —

The nation founded by her ancestors’ struggles should not be crushed by this inexplicable disaster.