Kingdom Building Game: Starting Out With A Million Upgrade Points! - Chapter 200

Chapter 200: The Last Stand of House DeLambre Part Three
The army split, a storm dividing into deadly currents. Seraphine’s knights veered left, their shields raised as Akerian arrows rained down, clattering against the Sanctum Aegis’s glow.

Velder’s riders peeled right, their lances lowered, aiming for the manor’s eastern towers.

Utilia charged alongside Arkanos, her gauntlets trailing sparks, her laughter wild as she smashed through a makeshift barricade of carts and spears.

The manor loomed closer, its stone walls bristling with defenders. Ballistae bolts screamed through the air, one grazing Utilia’s shoulder, drawing a curse but no pause. Arkanos’s eyes narrowed as he spotted movement on the walls—a young man in polished armor, barking orders, rallying archers. Their heir, he guessed, noting the blue cloak with a golden sunburst. Brave, but foolish.

“Utilia, the gates!” Arkanos roared, drawing his holy sword. The blade hummed, its edge catching the dying light like a promise of blood. He leaned low in the saddle, Midnight Veil thundering toward the manor’s iron-bound gates, reinforced with glowing wards.

Utilia grinned, planting her feet before the gates. “My pleasure!” She reared back, gauntlets blazing, and struck the iron with a blow that shook the earth. The wards flared, resisting, but cracks spiderwebbed across the gates, the metal groaning under her power.

Akerian mages atop the walls countered, hurling bolts of blue fire. Arkanos raised his blade, its holy power flaring, deflecting the magic in a shower of sparks.

“Push forward!” he shouted, his voice a beacon amid the chaos. His knights surged, their blessed armor shrugging off arrows, their blades carving through the outer defenses.

Seraphine’s flank drew heavy fire, her aura flaring as she parried a ballista bolt mid-air, her horse rearing. “My lord, they’re reinforcing the towers!” she called, her voice steady despite the onslaught. “We can’t hold the flank long!”

“Then don’t,” Arkanos replied, his eyes locked on the gates. “Velder, now!”

Velder’s riders struck the eastern towers, lances shattering ballistae, their cries echoing as Akerian archers fell. The young heir—Alaric, Arkanos would later learn—rallied his men, his sword flashing as he clashed with a Bloodbane knight.

As Utilia struck the gates again, the wards shattered, and the iron buckled inward. The manor’s heart lay exposed, its defenders faltering under the Bloodbanes’ relentless advance.

Arkanos raised his holy sword, its glow casting rays of light like wings across the field. “For the Empire!” he roared, and his army answered.

The Bloodbane army poured in behind him, a tide of black-and-crimson steel, their war cries amplified by the Sanctum Aegis’s divine glow.

The courtyard was now a crucible of chaos, its fountains toppled, its banners burning under Utilia’s relentless fists.

Arkanos’s eyes swept the scene, sharp as a hawk’s. Akerian defenders—knights in blue cloaks emblazoned with golden sunbursts—formed a desperate line across the courtyard, their shields locked against the Bloodbane onslaught.

Archers on the inner walls loosed volleys, arrows hissing like vipers, but the Sanctum Aegis turned most aside, the golden blessing shimmering around his knights.

Above, Akerian mages in sapphire robes hurled fireballs from the manor’s towers, their spells clashing with Bloodbane mage-shields in bursts of violet and crimson.

“Utilia, clear the courtyard!”

Arkanos commanded, his voice cutting through the din. He wheeled Midnight Veil toward a knot of Akerian knights, his holy sword slashing in a deadly arc.

The blade sang, severing steel and bone with unnatural ease. Two knights fell, their sunburst shields cloven, their cries lost in the roar of battle.

Utilia laughed, a wild, joyous sound, as she charged the Akerian line. Her crimson gauntlets glowed, each punch a thunderclap that sent defenders flying, their armor crumpling like parchment.

“This all you got, sun-lovers?” she taunted, smashing a shield wall apart, her boots grinding cobblestones to dust. A fireball grazed her arm, another fired directly toward her, but she shrugged it off, her grin unbroken.

Seraphine fought on the left flank, her white steed charging through the chaos. Her blue aura flared as she parried a knight’s longsword, her blade a blur as she cut him down. She drove her sword through another’s chest, then spun to deflect an arrow, her movements fluid yet strained.

Arkanos caught her glance again—brief, intense.

“Seraphine, hold the flank!” he shouted. “Don’t let them reinforce!”

“Yes, my lord!” she called back, her voice steady despite the blood streaking her armor. She rallied her knights, their shields forming a wedge that pushed back Akerian spearmen, buying time for the main assault.

Velder Meldon’s riders had scaled the eastern walls, their lances now replaced with swords as they fought tower guards hand-to-hand. Velder himself dismounted, his blade a silver streak as he cut down an Akerian mage, the man’s spell fizzling mid-cast.

“The ballistae are down!” he shouted, his voice cool but urgent. “But they appear to be rallying in the courtyard.”

Arkanos’s gaze snapped to the center of the courtyard, where Alaric DeLambre stood atop a shattered fountain, his polished armor dented but unyielding.

The young heir’s longsword flashed, felling a Bloodbane knight with a swift, clean thrust.

“For Akeria!” Alaric roared, his voice carrying over the clash of steel. “Hold the line! For DeLambre!” His men rallied, their shields tightening, their spears thrusting.

Arkanos noted the fire in Alaric’s eyes—a leader born, not merely bred.

‘A pity he serves a dying cause.’

“Utilia, with me!” Arkanos urged Midnight Veil forward, carving a path toward Alaric.

The horse trampled an Akerian spearman, its hooves striking sparks on the cobblestones.

Utilia followed, her gauntlets clearing a path through the defenders, her laughter a counterpoint to their screams.

But then—

A sudden pulse of blue light erupted from the manor’s keep, a ward flaring to life.

The ground trembled, and a wave of force knocked Utilia back, her boots skidding across the courtyard.

Arkanos reined in Midnight Veil, his blade raised to deflect a barrage of arcane bolts from the keep’s balcony.

Akerian mages, their robes glowing with leyline power, chanted in unison, reinforcing the ward.

‘They’re buying time,’ Arkanos realized, his mind racing.

‘For reinforcements? Or something else?’

“Seraphine, Velder, target the mages!” he ordered, his voice a whip-crack.

“Break their wards, now!”

Seraphine nodded, her knights shifting to storm the keep’s lower levels, their blades clashing with Akerian guards. Velder led his riders toward the balcony, hurling daggers to disrupt the mages’ chants.

But Alaric seized the moment, leaping from the fountain to intercept Arkanos’s advance.

“Bloodbane filth!” he shouted, his longsword arcing toward Midnight Veil’s flank.