The dark iron domain before dawn was as heavy as iron.
Only the footsteps of patrol knights remained on the city walls, as the cold penetrated through the gaps in their armor into their bones.
Count Doron, clad in a thick cloak, stood behind the wall, overlooking the plains swallowed by the night.
He did not expect anything to happen tonight; even though the Empire had been turbulent recently, he treated the nightly patrols more like a routine, even a pleasure.
Especially when the subjects instinctively lowered their heads upon seeing him; those fearful eyes gave him a certain sense of satisfaction.
Because of the recent imperial dispute over the throne, Lord Raymond ordered vigilance across the entire territory, but in Doron’s eyes, the faraway Gray Rock Province was practically unaffected.
He commanded five thousand knights, and if any dared to co, he believed they would die on this dark land.
However, the real danger never arrived as he had imagined.
At first, only the wind changed.
Doron frowned, just about to call for soone to investigate...
Suddenly, a blinding white flash fell on the southeastern corner of the wall, a corner so ignored that even the knights were lazy to patrol.
The next mont, explosions tore through the silence.
"Boom——! Boom——!"
"What?" Doron’s heart skipped a beat.
The mont the firelight descended, Doron thought it was rely a probe, but the explosion point condensed too fiercely, like a nail precisely driven into a crevice, lodged in the most fragile joint with one strike.
The wall that had guarded the dark iron domain for hundreds of years, resisted beast tides, weathered three rebellions, and never bowed to fate during stormy tis—the dark iron stone giant shield—was trembling under mysterious forces.
The vibrations burst from the depths of the bricks, pushing layer by layer outward, as if a giant was using massive fists to hamr the city wall.
The roar stirred up smoke and dust, the dark iron stone cracked into three gaps in the night.
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!" The knights frantically grabbed weapons and rushed toward the breaches, but they froze halfway.
Because in the darkness, sothing terrifying was surging forth.
These shadows were moving, forming rows and columns, neatly and uniformly, like a black tide, then orderly splitting into three, flooding into the city.
Doron tightened his throat, staring at that breach from a distance, trying to identify what it was.
A group of heavy cavalry!
"How dare cavalry attack the Black Iron City? Who are they..." Doron exclaid.
Iron armor had no reflection in the night, no torchlight to illuminate, making it impossible to discern who they were.
"What... what troops? From where? How dare they cause trouble in Gray Rock Province?" Doron gripped his sword hilt, sweat faintly erging from his palm.
He finally saw the armor of the front row cavalry; all black, unadorned, with only a subtle red mark carved on the chest.
"Go up and block them!" Doron shouted, drawing his sword as he rushed down the tower himself.
He leaped down, his fighting energy instantly unleashed, gray radiance spreading along the blade.
With a powerful swing, he forced back two enemy riders half a step.
The knight across raised his head, eting his gaze, with eyes that were cold and indifferent.
And in the cracks of the broken armor, there was an ice-blue light flowing.
The light seeped out from the split armor, ghostly and pure, piercing straight into his eyes.
In Doron’s mind, it was as if struck by a heavy hamr, a deafening roar, thoughts suddenly blank.
Blue fighting energy!
Northern winter fighting energy!
In that mont, he even forgot to breathe.
This shouldn’t be here! It couldn’t possibly be here!
When the sword edge clashed again, the ice-blue surged up along the tal, like a chill tide wrapping around his arm.
His fingers stiffened from the cold, unable to hold the sword steadily.
"No... impossible..." Doron’s throat tightened, voice akin to being choked, "Northern Knights? Three thousand kiloters away... how did they co here?"
Moreover, there was no beacon alarm, no scout report. Not a hint of warning signaling the approach of this army.
As if the entire army had erged from the depths of darkness.
A fear climbing from his spine made him doubt whether he was facing so sort of ghost clad in armor.
This thought lasted only a few monts.
Because as the mysterious iron cavalry crashed into his own ranks, he saw his personal guards split like firewood cleaved by a heavy axe.
Formation torn apart cleanly and quickly, without any hesitation.
Fighting energy rendered aningless in their face, their impact could seemingly press both man and armor into the mud.
"Retreat! Retreat into the fortress!" Doron scread, but his voice was swallowed by the clash of iron armor.
He could clearly sense, the frontline wasn’t rely beaten back, but completely overturned.
Enemy cavalry continued to advance in the darkness, without shouting, without gasping, without any of the chaotic emotions typical in normal warfare.
Like a ghostly legion bearing the breath of deep winter stepping through the night.
Thirty minutes passed.
In just thirty minutes, the more than one thousand knights he had always prided himself on, stationed within the city, seed utterly routed.
Until now, Doron couldn’t help but repeatedly question, how did they dare?
How did they manage to silently reach the city?
All of it seed deliberately obscured by so force, the more he pondered, the more fear crept in.
Due to the continuous defeat of his knights, Doron had no choice but to ride back into the castle with the remaining guards, hearing footsteps relentlessly closing in from behind.
He cast one last glance at the city behind.
Ghosts from the extre northern winter were silently consuming the entire city.
......
From within the city ca intermittent cries of battle, indistinguishable between ghostly wails or human screams.
Old Hans shrank in his little bakery, his whole body stiff as if frozen.
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