บท 194: The assault

This is a test, normally I like to study about the topics of this story, but now I will avoid doing that to try to reduce the writing time, so the story could have spelling mistakes or wrong information.

If it's okay with you I could do this, because it took me 58 minutes to make the chapter, but if you think the quality is too low I'd rather keep the hiatus.

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Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.

I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.

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-Pov of Mervyn tenth moon 288 AC

"There they are... the enemy... the beasts that once ravaged your lands, plundering them in their moment of weakness. Look at them... full of fear, fear of you, brave soldiers." Generalfeldmarschall von Roon raised his sword, pointing directly at the Ironborn's castle, his voice echoing across the field. "Their harsh way of life does not compare to the draconian training you have endured."

The soldiers listened attentively, their eyes fixed on the castle they would soon assault. The tension in the air was palpable, but so was the anticipation.

"And today, we will pay them a visit. A visit that will bring all our fury, the fury of our people, the fury they met at sea," von Roon continued, his voice growing more intense. "The will of millions of souls who place their trust in King Wilhelm von Hohenzollern. Our unshakable will, as hard and firm as the steel you carry in your hands. That will shall be the end of the Ironborn when their homes are turned to ashes, their places of worship razed, and you, my soldiers, will rule these lands in the name of the king."

The soldiers stood tense, their bodies rigid as they absorbed every word from the general. They knew the coming battle would not be easy, but the promises of glory and wealth drove them to face death without fear.

"Once again, your loyalty and discipline will be tested against the enemy," von Roon's voice lowered, more calculated. "Against these beasts. But, as our blessed king is great and magnanimous, he plans to reward the bravest among you generously."

The general paused dramatically, looking at each of the men, knowing that what he was about to say would ignite their hearts.

"The first ten who scale the walls alive will immediately earn Prussian citizenship, inheritable by your children, ipso facto. And if you die without children, it will pass to your parents."

At these words, a roar erupted among the ranks. Thousands of throats began to shout with excitement, the promise of Prussian citizenship and eternal glory a greater incentive than the fear of death. Instead of twenty years of military service, now they only had to scale the walls of those barbarians. The opportunity to claim glory was within their reach, and the excitement in the air was palpable.

The soldiers' roar filled the battlefield, and in that moment, Prussian discipline, hardened by years of training, turned into an unstoppable fervor, ready to crush any obstacle the Ironborn would place in their path.

Von Roon took out a small pocket watch, observing it intently. The tension in the air became palpable as he did so, as if time itself were in his hands.

"Prepare your gear, say your prayers and make your offerings, or use this time to write to your loved ones. The attack will begin at twelve hours today," said Roon before turning and walking back to his tent, leaving the soldiers with their thoughts.

Immediately, everyone began to move, each knowing what needed to be done. Some took their places at the sharpening stones, giving the final touches to their swords and axes, making sure each blade could cut as precisely as possible. They knew that a well-honed blade could be the difference between life and death in the battle to come.

Others headed to the chapel, seeking the Prussian monk among them, wishing to offer their final prayers. They knew the battle would be brutal, and many of them would not live to see the sun set over the battlefield. Prayers filled the air, asking for strength and forgiveness for whatever wrongs they may have committed. For the Prussians, war was a divine duty, and they faced death with the certainty that their actions were blessed.

The rest of the soldiers simply sat in silence, mentally preparing for what was to come. The impending siege was new for us, but we knew that the Prussians were considered masters of offensive sieges. We had heard stories of how they captured fortresses thought to be impregnable in a matter of hours, sacrificing siege equipment and men without hesitation, all to crush enemy defenses with relentless efficiency.

However, looking at the castles of the Ironborn, we knew this wouldn't be easy. The walls were well-maintained, and the men defending them were tough, veterans of raids and coastal battles. This was not the kind of enemy that surrendered easily. We knew it would be difficult and bloody.

The preparations continued, and the sounds of swords being sharpened, murmured prayers, and the soft scratching of letters to loved ones were the only things breaking the silence of the wait. The siege would begin soon, and with it, the true trial by fire for us and those waiting behind the stone walls.

The rhythmic sound of the Prussian trebuchets filled the air, their enormous arms hurling heavy stones at the castle walls. The rocks struck with force, shaking the structure, but the walls held firm. The Prussian siege engineers, experts in their craft, had set the machines in motion in record time, while others were already preparing, quickly working on the ladders we would use for the assault. All that remained was for one wall to collapse under the bombardment, as von Roon had anticipated.

Hours passed, and the walls, though marked by the impacts, still stood strong. The time for the assault drew closer, and with it, the tension in the air grew. Orders were whispered through the formation, and the soldiers adjusted their armor, checked their weapons, and took their positions.

When the moment came, I requested to be at the front of the formation, determined to claim that Prussian citizenship, no matter the cost. There was no room for doubt. Being one of the first to scale those walls was my only chance, and I intended to seize it. As I moved toward the front line, I could feel my heart pounding. Around me, men whispered prayers or mentally prepared for the bloody battle to come.

I focused on controlling my breathing as I observed the spot where we placed our ladders. A meticulous Prussian engineer had used a tool to measure the height of the wall from a distance. The ladder had to be perfect—neither too short nor too long—to reach the top without errors. We relied on that precision, knowing that even the smallest mistake could cost us dearly in this assault.

Von Roon appeared once again, this time clad in full plate armor. Holding a greatsword, he raised his weapon toward the Ironborn's castle and shouted with fury, "Gott mit uns!" His voice echoed across the field, a commanding roar that we all followed without hesitation.

The thunderous blasts of the scorpions resounded immediately. The enormous war machines launched bolts at the defenders massing on the walls, tearing through flesh and bone. The Ironborn screamed, some falling forward, tumbling from the heights as the bolts struck them.

Wasting no time, we started running in groups, carrying the ladders toward the walls. As we advanced, a detachment broke off, firing their crossbows with deadly precision at the pirates trying to stop us. Rocks and arrows rained down on us, but our crossbowmen retaliated with equal lethality. I saw several Ironborn fall like ragdolls as bolts pierced their bodies, leaving the walls temporarily undefended.

My legs burned as I sprinted with all my strength, clinging to the ladder we carried.

Bolts and arrows flew from both sides, crisscrossing the air like lethal projectiles. I felt some of the arrows strike against my armor, bouncing off harmlessly thanks to the steel protecting me. But not all arrows missed their mark. The cries of pain from some comrades confirmed that the Ironborn would not give up without a fight.

Finally, we reached the spot to place our ladders, and I was gasping for breath after the long run. My breathing was heavy, and my muscles burned from the effort, but my desire for that Prussian citizenship was stronger. Without stopping, I began raising the ladder, struggling to stabilize it against the castle walls. My hands trembled from the weight and tension, but my mind was focused on one goal: scaling those walls.

As we worked to position the ladders, our company's crossbowmen continued firing relentlessly, sending bolts at any pirate who dared show themselves atop the wall to throw rocks or take aim with their bows. I saw more than one Ironborn collapse backward, struck by a bolt in the chest or head. The enemy's defense weakened with every casualty we inflicted.

Quickly, I began climbing the ladder, my breath growing heavier with each step. I felt the strain in my muscles, but also a strange mix of excitement and fear. As I climbed higher, I noticed that I was the first to reach such a height. The others were still securing their ladders, but I already had one foot on the glory I sought.

As I neared the top, I saw a couple of Ironborn, clearly desperate, trying to push the ladder to knock me off. But it had been secured by my comrades below, and the pirates' efforts couldn't move it. With my axe in my right hand, I continued my ascent, undeterred by their attempts.

One of them thrust a spear at me as I climbed. I saw the flash of the weapon moving quickly and barely had time to react. The spearhead grazed my left arm, but in an instinctive movement, I managed to grab it. I felt the weight of the weapon in my hand as I yanked it free from the pirate. His frustrated scream mingled with the sounds of battle as the spear fell harmlessly to the ground.

I continued climbing with renewed vigor, feeling each step bring me closer to the top. The ladder had been perfectly measured, reaching just the right point on the wall. The Ironborn tried to shake it, but without exposing themselves to our attacks, it was difficult for them. Each passing second gave me more confidence, knowing I was about to be the first to reach the top.

When I was only a few meters from the summit, a pirate lunged at me with an axe. I saw him at the last moment and managed to move my head just enough to avoid a fatal blow, but the edge of the axe caught my shoulder. The pain was immediate, but I didn't let it stop me. With a furious roar, I retaliated with my own axe.

The blade of my weapon sank into the pirate's face, leaving a gaping, bloody wound. It wasn't a killing blow—I heard him scream in pain as he stumbled backward. His face was drenched in blood, and though he hadn't died, he was incapacitated, leaving me a clear path to continue my ascent.

With blood pounding in my ears and the pain in my shoulder numbing, I climbed the last few rungs, ready to face whatever awaited me at the top of the wall.

As I reached the summit, my eyes quickly scanned the scene. Several Ironborn lay wounded, pierced by our crossbowmen's bolts. Others were preoccupied, trying to repel the men who were now rapidly climbing the ladders. Chaos reigned atop the wall, but my focus zeroed in on a single pirate charging toward me.

He had picked up the axe of his fallen comrade, the same man I had struck moments before. The pirate, filled with rage and desperation, raised the axe above his head, ready to deliver a killing blow.

With a speed born of necessity, I lunged forward, catching his arm before he could complete the strike. The effort to stop him strained every muscle, but I didn't falter. In one fluid motion, I raised my axe and, without hesitation, drove it into his neck with all the force I could muster.

A spray of blood erupted from the wound, covering me instantly. The pirate staggered, releasing a choking sound as the life drained from his body. His eyes, which moments before had been filled with hatred, now dimmed as he collapsed to the ground with a dull thud.

I quickly turned, assessing the situation. The other Ironborn defenders were too occupied trying to fend off the assault on other parts of the walls. They hadn't seen me yet, and that gave me the advantage.

I spotted a pirate, injured by a bolt in his arm, still fighting with savage brutality, trying to prevent another group of my men from scaling the ladders. I rushed toward him, my axe still dripping with blood. Before he could react, I struck him from behind, sinking the blade into his back. He let out a strangled cry, collapsing as my axe found its mark between his ribs.

I wasn't going to stop until we had full control of the walls. I moved with purpose, my axe ready, searching for more enemies.

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Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.

----------------------

I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.

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