Swordbreak Fort — this vital eastern crossing — had completely lost all order. The roar of routed troops, the wails of the wounded, and a thick fog of panic had become the city's new theme.
Tyroshi stragglers clogged the narrow streets like headless flies. Lysene wounded screamed in despair. Myrish officers shouted themselves hoarse but couldn't find their own men.
Precious equipment lay abandoned everywhere. The injured and the dead shared the same blankets with no one to care for them. Fear spread like plague in every pair of eyes.
The small outposts outside the city — which should have served as early warning and delay points — were already empty. Some had even been occupied by small Volantene scouting parties. Even worse, the defenders inside the city were terrified, rumors flying everywhere. They had neither the strength nor the will to hold the walls.
Vito walked up to Tiberius on the battlements, his face grim. "Kid, you hear the rumors? A lot of the Myrish and our own mercenaries are already figuring out how to 'leave early.' The ships are limited — wait any longer and there won't even be a plank left to grab!"
"I heard," Tiberius spat over the wall in disgust.
"Damn it, Mitridas is a complete idiot! And that Tyroshi general deserves to have his head cut off! He actually thought he could take in those Myrish stragglers? Didn't he realize it would collapse the entire city's defense?"
"Now look at us… the Myrish army is broken, the Tyroshi are scattered!"
"And our Lysene 'allies' — they're even dumber! Even more useless!"
"What era is this? Getting their formation shattered by chariots? I don't know how they even managed their so-called victories! And now, of the mercenaries Lys hired, I hear only half made it back!"
"Not even half!" Vito gave a bitter laugh, but his eyes showed real fear.
"Only a third. Of all the mercenaries who joined that stupid 'Race to the Sea' operation, only a third made it back to Swordbreak Fort! Habro — my old friend, leader of the Blood Hammer Company — nearly left his legs in the Disputed River delta! His company is down to two hundred men."
Tiberius's gaze swept over the chaotic harbor and the crowds desperately trying to board ships, then turned back to the governor's temporary residence still brightly lit inside the city. A flash of cold resolve crossed his eyes.
"We can't wait any longer!" he said through gritted teeth. "We have to evacuate now! This city can't be held!"
However, when Tiberius urgently urged Lysandro to order an immediate withdrawal, the Lysene governor remained strangely "calm" — even dismissive. He sipped from a golden cup of Lysene wine, enjoying the vintage while ignoring the growing chaos outside the window.
"Tiberius, my young warrior," Lysandro said slowly, his tone carrying the condescending confidence of the high-born. "There's no need for such panic. General Mitridas may have suffered… a minor setback, but the overall situation is still under control. We have strong walls and loyal soldiers. They cannot possibly…"
Tiberius almost roared, but he forced himself to stay calm, his voice urgent. "My lord! There is no time left! The routed troops have already shattered all order. The outer outposts are lost. Enemy cavalry and main legions could appear on the horizon at any moment! This is not a minor setback — this is a complete rout! We must board the ships immediately!"
Lysandro frowned, clearly displeased by Tiberius's "hysteria" and "alarmism." He waved a dismissive hand. "Enough. I understand. I will consider it. Prepare for withdrawal if you must, but there is no need to rush. Maintaining morale is more important. After all, Swordbreak Fort is a very important stronghold. I believe the other triarchs will send reinforcements to relieve us…"
His delay was pushing everyone one step closer to the gates of hell.
Lysandro's "calm" did not last long. In fact, things fell apart that very afternoon.
While he was stalling, Volantene vanguard cavalry appeared like a black tide on the outskirts of Swordbreak Fort, accompanied by the thunder of hooves.
Swordbreak Fort was a river-crossing city nestled between two mountain peaks that formed an inverted "V" shape. The narrow opening faced the river, while the wider opening and the city behind it faced directly toward the Volantene heartland.
This made the city easy to defend against river assaults but extremely difficult to hold against an attack coming from the Volantene side.
Worse, by now the walls were almost completely unmanned. The Volantene main force took the city with almost no resistance — they simply tore down the Three Daughters' banners and raised their own.
Once the walls were secured, they did not pause for even a moment. They launched an immediate assault, the Volantene troops cutting down the fleeing soldiers who hadn't yet boarded ships. They surged toward the harbor like a tidal wave.
When the glint of steel pressed against their backs, the entire crossing exploded into total panic!
Screams, cries, the thunder of hooves, and the clash of weapons blended into one deafening roar. People surged madly toward the ships moored along the river, shoving, trampling, and even drawing blades on each other.
The Lightning Company — which had still maintained some order — was also being swept up in the human flood. Only Tiberius and his officers' furious shouts kept them from breaking completely as they escorted the core personnel toward a pre-reserved galley.
But in this level of chaos, even the strict discipline Tiberius had drilled into the Lightning Company wasn't enough to keep every man perfectly obedient.
Damn it, this level of disorder is insane! Tiberius cursed inside, then quickly opened his system panel.
Title: "The Ruthless" (Fame: 7%)
Title Bonus Unlocked: Command Aura (Low Level)
The effect of the Command Aura was simple: within its range, people would feel overwhelming fear and obey Tiberius's orders without question.
At first Tiberius had thought the bonus was almost useless. Now he finally understood its true value.
Make your soldiers fear you more than the enemy — and they will obey.
The moment he activated the aura, the Lightning Company soldiers — who had begun to waver and feel terror — and even some of the mercenaries following them, suddenly felt a surge of dread in their hearts.
"Listen to me, soldiers!" Tiberius roared at the top of his lungs. "Obey my orders and you will live! Disobey…"
His cold eyes swept across the men.
"…and the Volantenes will trample you into the mud!"
[It worked!] Tiberius thought with satisfaction as he watched the soldiers' reactions. At least now their discipline was holding — they weren't on the verge of total collapse like before.
But that didn't mean they were safe. Tiberius looked at the growing sounds of slaughter drawing closer and immediately ordered the men to cover Lysandro and Lysaro as they boarded the ship and fled.
Lysandro had long since lost his earlier composure. He was half-dragged, half-carried by his guards and Lightning Company soldiers, his face ashen, his steps stumbling. A stray arrow grazed his arm, drawing a line of blood. He cried out in pain and nearly collapsed, only to be held up by Lysaro and his attendants.
Lysaro no longer cared about appearances. He held a shield over his father with one hand and used his sword in the other to hack at anyone who got too close in the chaos. Every few steps he grabbed a bow and fired wildly at the approaching Volantene cavalry — the arrows had no accuracy, but they were full of raw fury.
"Faster! Get the lord aboard!" Tiberius stood at the ship's railing, shouting himself hoarse as he directed sailors and soldiers to cut the mooring lines and raise the sails, leaving many desperate people stranded on the dock.
Tiberius couldn't bear to look into their eyes — the eyes of those being abandoned — but he would not stop the ship to save them.
Because if he did, they would all die.
He watched the dock turn into a scene from hell — soldiers being cut down or abandoned, the Volantene cavalry and Tiger Cloak legions drawing ever closer. Looking at the disheveled, pathetic figure of Lysandro being half-dragged aboard, the rage, fear, and hatred toward incompetent commanders that had built up for days finally erupted like a volcano.
He spun around, facing Swordbreak Fort, and with every ounce of strength in his body let out a scream that tore across the river, louder than the chaos of battle:
"MITRIDAS — YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!"
The roar carried all the surviving men's pent-up fury.
"You spice-trading piece of shit! You worthless merchant who only got his general's baton and command by bribing officials and whoring himself out! What the fuck gives you the right to be supreme commander?! You can't even read a map properly! You sent the Myrish to die, used the Tyroshi as cannon fodder, and turned the Lyseni into meat for the Volantene trenches — you're nothing but a clown in fancy armor standing on a mountain of corpses! You idiot! You fucking moron!"
He gasped for breath between every curse, as if he were vomiting out his guts.
"Lys! And everyone who died here — everyone you killed with your stupidity — they all died because of you, you useless, brainless piece of shit —!!!"
The ship finally lurched away from the dock and moved toward the safer center of the river. Tiberius's furious curses echoed across the water like a bloody, tear-soaked elegy for this absurd and catastrophic defeat.
On the dock, flames rose high and black smoke billowed. Volantene banners now flew from every wall and pier. Those who couldn't escape were speared, hacked down, or pushed into the river to drown. The Volantene soldiers let out proud, bloodthirsty cheers.
By now, Swordbreak Fort had completely fallen to the Volantenes!
The Three Daughters' grand campaign across the eastern bank of the Disputed River had ended in total, humiliating failure.
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