anwhile, on the other side of Snow Eagle City, deep within a street that had long been breached, Firth had already knelt amidst the rubble and blood.
His silk outer robe was burnt through by embers, and the magic crystal rings on his hands had fallen off and disappeared during his escape.
Around him lay the corpses of knights who had fought to their deaths to escort him out of Snow Eagle City.
“I, I am a Earl of the Fors Family!” Firth wailed incoherently, his cheek pressed against the cold flagstones, like a dead dog.
He lay on the ground, trying to crawl forward, but a Snowsworn warrior’s boot stomped heavily on his back, making him let out a sharp cry of pain.
“rcy, my lord... I have money, I have ore veins, castles... I can offer them all to you, please don’t kill ...” he begged.
The warrior stepping on him laughed, “If we kill you, won’t all these things be ours anyway?”
Upon hearing this, Firth imdiately grew anxious: “I am willing to be your slave for life, even if it ans working like an ox or a horse... I can also, also serve as bait to attract other Northern nobles!”
At this mont, Barnes slowly approached from a distance, draped in a greyish-white cloak, his face stained with enemy blood, yet his expression was as leisurely as a beast returning from a hunt.
He looked down at the figure groveling and wailing on the ground, and slightly raised his eyebrows: “You are Earl Firth?”
Firth raised his head, snot and tears gushing out together, his face distorted from crying: “It’s ! It’s , my lord! Please be rciful and spare my life.
I am willing to pledge my loyalty to you, no, no, from now on I will be your dog! I only ask not to die! I will obey your every command!”
“Enough.”
Barnes, seeing his shaless display, lost all interest in toying with him.
He waved his hand indifferently, his gaze like that of soone looking at a crushed insect.
“Break his limbs and take him back as a sacrifice for the blood ritual.”
He said this casually, then turned and left, not even bothering to look at him again, as if it would dirty his eyes.
“Wh-what... No... No!!! Ah!!!”
His hands were instantly twisted, Firth scread, struggling and shrinking back, like a fish on a cutting board, thrashing continuously.
A Mad Wolf warrior stepped forward, his movents swift and decisive, twisting his legs.
The sound of bones cracking echoed in the night wind, accompanied by Firth’s heartbreaking wails.
“Ah ah ah ah!!! No!! Help!! I don’t want to die!!”
His screams reverberated among the ruined walls, yet they caused no ripple.
After all, this was only a small part of the tragedy occurring in the city.
The Snowsworn occupied the entire city like a tide.
After entering the city, they were like a pack of beasts that had completely broken free from their chains.
The noble residences had long beco the lairs of their prey.
Those nobles who had not yet fled, once high and mighty, were dragged out and publicly knelt for beheading, their blood splattering the white walls, and their wives and daughters... their screams once pierced through the entire street.
The Snowsworn had no rcy.
They took jewels, burned portraits, laughed as they crushed ivory chairs, and threw crying children into the fire just because their crying was annoying.
So warriors dragged captives onto the city walls, forcing them to shout “Long live Snow Country,” and if they couldn’t, they were beheaded with a single slash.
Those who did shout were also laughed at and had their tongues cut off: “Fake, not sincere.”
The common people had nowhere to escape.
Flas scorched every wooden beam on the streets, and blood mixed with mud covered the street corners.
Regardless of gender, age, or youth, anyone who blocked the Snowsworn’s path would be torn apart.
Won knelt and begged for rcy, only to receive humiliation, followed by the fall of a long blade.
A young boy protected his sister with a wooden stick, was kicked down, and had his arm crushed by a foot; his sister ultimately could not escape a tragic fate.
So were flayed alive, so were used as targets for throwing, and so had only their heads left impaled on the top of spears, hung at the entrance of noble residences.
The Mad Wolf unit was the most bloodthirsty and insane; they burned captives alive in front of bonfires, and accompanied by the victims’ wails, gathered to howl and perform primitive dances.
This was the victor’s feast.
They vented, ravaged, and with slaughter and flas, carved the mark of the Snowsworn into Snow Eagle City.
And the conquered city could only silently endure this suffering, even if most people had done nothing.
The only consolation was that under Viscount Webster’s final command, the granaries were completely destroyed, charred black, leaving no food behind.
And while the treasury was not entirely destroyed, the piled gold, silver, and jewels were of no help ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ to the war.
Barnes stood on the city wall, gazing into the distance.
The flag of the old Snow Country fluttered high above his head, white cloth wrapped in blood red, waving in the wind.
It trembled violently in the wind, as if the sleeping will of a fallen kingdom was awakening.
And beneath his feet lay the Empire’s dragon-emblazoned flag, already fallen in a pool of blood, its design blurred.
Barnes knew very well that fires were raging throughout the city, cries of anguish were continuous, and the slaughter in the streets had not ceased.
But he did not order a stop.
“The warriors need to vent,” he told his guards, “If I were a few years younger, I would have been even more ruthless.”
“However, later I can also find a noblewoman to rest with,” he leaned on his blood-stained long blade, looking up and laughing wildly, “Hahahahaha!”
However, just as he was reveling in this victory, a rapid sound of footsteps interrupted his ecstasy.
A Wolf Knight, accompanied by a blood-soaked warrior, rushed onto the city wall.
“Lord Barnes!” The warrior fell to the ground, gasping for breath, his face full of fear, “Qingyu Ridge... Qingyu Ridge has fallen!”
Barnes froze, the smile on his face solidifying into frost.
“What?” he asked in surprise, completely unable to believe it.
The knight beside him quickly added: “He’s not the only one, several other warriors who escaped from Qingyu Ridge are saying the sa thing!”
Barnes frowned deeply, looking at the dying wounded soldier, “How did it fall? How many enemies? Where did they co from?!”
“A night raid,” the warrior murmured softly, “We don’t know... there were very few people, only two hundred? But... but...”
“But what?”
“We didn’t see anything clearly... it was over...”
Silence spread across the city wall.
Barnes whispered in a low voice: “Impossible! Qingyu Ridge is easy to defend and hard to attack, even with a night raid, it couldn’t have fallen so quickly!”
A rare unease finally appeared in his eyes.
Snow Eagle City’s granaries had already been burnt to ashes.
Now he had almost no supplies.
And the supply line could only rely on the Snowsworn’s base in Ice Sea County.
But between Ice Sea County and Snowpeak County, mountains crisscrossed and dangerous passes were nurous.
Qingyu Ridge was the most crucial choke point connecting the two places.
If Qingyu Ridge truly fell, it would an that Snow Eagle City had beco an isolated city.
“Damn it!”
Barnes looked at the mountains shrouded in the southern night, and gritted his teeth coldly: “Even if it’s a coincidence, we can’t gamble.”
He imdiately ordered: “Send eight hundred n to bypass the eastern mountain path and imdiately retake Qingyu Ridge! We must reclaim it as soon as possible!”
The fanaticism in Barnes’s eyes gradually faded, replaced by sternness.
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