The Grand Duke's Son Is A Heretic-Chapter 142:Night Attack[II]

Kael and Handel went to the edge of the area to take a look.

There, they saw monsters marching.

Behind the monsters were people in dark cloaks. They were playing strange, creepy instruments.

One of them played a flute, but the tune was horrible.

Those cloaked people were leading the monsters.

They walked slowly, step by step. The instruments they held gave off a weak glow.

The monsters were big and ugly. Their bodies were twisted, flesh rotting, and their fangs sharp like blades. They moved weirdly, with dead eyes, like something was pulling their strings.

"Those guys," Handel said, holding his sword tight. "They’re making the monsters move. Like puppets."

Handel swallowed. "What kind of magic is this?"

Kael’s face turned cold. "It’s forbidden magic... soul-binding. They trapped the monsters’ souls. Now they control them."

Kael clicked his tongue and stared forward. "Didn’t think I’d see them today."

"Let’s go to the mined. I’m sure the real thing is about to start now," Kael said.

Handel nodded. They were just about to leave when Kael suddenly stopped.

"Hub... Lyria..." Kael’s eyes opened wide. He saw her hiding nearby.

He knew it was her from her unique mana and those red bangs.

"What’s she doing here?"

"I don’t know," Handel said.

Kael glared at him. "I wasn’t asking you. Whatever. Let’s pick her up."

He muttered those words and started walking toward her. His steps were calm, but his eyes looked crazy.

Kael moved through the snow like a shadow, his eyes fixed on the spot where Lyria crouched behind a broken, half-buried tree.

The storm howled around them, winds carrying flakes of ice that bit at their skin. Behind them, the twisted melody of the flutes still echoed eerily.

Kael didn’t stop walking. His boots crunched over frozen ground as he closed the distance and grabbed Lyria by her arm, yanking her out of hiding.

Her face showed nothing,no fear, no surprise, just the same cold stare she always had. The red bangs over her forehead fluttered in the wind, and her pale skin looked almost ghostly in the snow’s reflection.

"What are you doing here?" Kael hissed, eyes narrow and sharp like a blade.

Lyria blinked once, slowly. "I was searching for you, Master," she said in a calm, hollow voice. Not a flicker of emotion crossed her face.

Kael scoffed. "Huh? Why didn’t you go back?"

"Because I thought I might be needed," she replied, voice flat and honest like a machine stating facts.

Kael’s expression hardened. His jaw clenched like he was ready to snap. For a moment, it looked like he might shout—but then he stopped himself.

He looked away, eyes twitching with annoyance.

’She’s not someone you can reason with. I shouldn’t waste my brain on petty things like this,’ he thought bitterly, scratching the side of his head with a wild, frustrated energy.

He turned back to her, voice sharp. "Okay then. Follow me. Stay close. If you get caught, I’m not saving you."

"Uhmm," Lyria replied, expression still blank, her voice just a whisper against the wind.

They turned toward Handel, who stood nearby, still watching the monster army in the distance. The snowstorm grew stronger, swallowing the path behind them. The flutes kept playing, haunting the cold air. The monsters marched on, unaware of the eyes watching them.

....

The night was heavy with an eerie silence, broken only by the sound of the cold wind howling across the frozen plains.

Baret and Chris stood side by side, their eyes fixed on the vast darkness beyond the walls. The flames from the torches flickered wildly, casting long shadows on the stone. The air was freezing, each breath coming out in thick clouds of mist.

"It’s going to be difficult to fight at night," Baret muttered, his voice low. His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword.

Gare stood nearby, his expression grim. He didn’t answer. His thoughts were elsewhere, occupied with something only he knew.

Chris exhaled sharply. "I hope the Lord is alright," he said, his frown deepening. He turned to Gare, searching for reassurance.

But before anyone could respond, the air shifted.

A deep, guttural roar echoed through the distance, sending shivers down their spines. It was followed by another. Then another.

The ground trembled slightly.

At the forefront of the fortress, Robert’s voice cut through the rising tension.

"MAGES, READY YOUR SPELLS!"

Suddenly, a strange sound pierced the air.

A melody.

Soft at first, then growing louder. The haunting tune of flutes and eerie magical chants drifted from the darkness. It was unnatural, almost hypnotic, weaving through the cold air like a whisper of death.

Shadows began to emerge. At first, they were barely visible in the darkness. Then, the flames from the torches flickered higher, and their forms became clear.

A massive horde of monsters was moving toward them.But they weren’t alone.

Robert clenched his fists as he watched the scene unfold. The eerie melody carried through the night, wrapping around the battlefield like a sinister curse.

The firelight flickered, casting shadows over the battlefield. The stench of decay filled the air. Some creatures dragged themselves forward on massive claws, while others lumbered with hunched backs and thick, armored hides. Slithering beasts with glowing red eyes hissed as they slithered through the snow, leaving a steaming path behind them.

Robert turned to the soldiers behind him. "STEADY YOUR NERVES!" His voice thundered through the night. "THEY WANT US TO FEAR! BUT WE HOLD THE WALL! WE HOLD THE LINE!"

The knights clenched their weapons, their grips firm despite the tension in the air. Some muttered prayers, others exchanged quick nods of reassurance.

A deep, guttural growl rumbled from the front lines as a massive troll, its flesh covered in festering wounds, let out a thunderous roar. The ground shook beneath its weight.

"Commander!" A knight ran up, his breath visible in the cold air. "Do we fire?"

Robert narrowed his eyes, watching the horde approach. His mind raced. They had the traps set. They had the advantage. But timing was everything.

"Not yet," he said firmly.

The monsters charged forward, their roars blending with the twisted melody. The night was about to explode into chaos.

The monster horde stretched endlessly across the frozen plains. Their twisted bodies moved like a tide, shaking the ground with every step. At the front, massive trolls stomped forward, their thick, rocky skin cracking with every movement.

Behind them, fanged beasts with long, snake-like necks hissed, their glowing red eyes locked onto the fortress. Gigantic wolves with spiked fur prowled through the ranks, their breath misting in the cold air.

Among them, twisted humanoid creatures with elongated limbs and rotting flesh dragged themselves forward, their shrieks piercing the night.

Robert stood tall on the wall, his eyes locked on the incoming army. "Hold your fire!" he commanded, his voice steady and firm. Albert clenched his fists, sweat forming on his brow despite the cold.

The monsters roared louder, their pace quickening. Their claws dug into the frozen ground, their mouths foaming with hunger. The stench of blood and decay filled the air as they stormed toward the walls.

Then, it happened.

The first troll at the front suddenly lost its balance.

Its massive frame tumbled forward, crashing into the ice with a deafening thud. More followed—wolves, beasts, and grotesque humanoids all falling into hidden pits and sliding on slick, unstable ground.

Confusion spread through the ranks of monsters, their roars turning into surprised screeches. Some clawed at the air, trying to regain their footing, but the ice beneath them crumbled.

Robert’s eyes flashed. "NOW! FIRE!"

A hundred bows snapped at once.

TWANG!

A rain of arrows soared into the sky before diving down with deadly precision.

"GRUHHHKK!" A troll let out a monstrous cry as an arrow pierced through its eye, sending it sprawling backward.

"RAAGHHH!" Another beast convulsed, its thick hide punctured by multiple arrows. It thrashed violently before collapsing onto the others.

Shrieks of pain echoed across the battlefield. Black blood splattered onto the ice, hissing as it met the frozen surface. Some monsters tried to push forward, but the second volley of arrows came, this time burning with fire.

SWOOSH!

The moment the flaming arrows struck the ground, the battlefield exploded into a raging firestorm. The oil hidden beneath the snow ignited instantly, sending flames licking up the bodies of the fallen monsters.

"RGHH!" A deformed humanoid screamed as fire consumed its flesh, its skin melting into black goo.

"GRHHHH!" A giant wolf howled in agony, rolling on the ground to put out the flames, but the fire clung to its fur, burning it alive.

The air filled with the sounds of roaring fire, screeching monsters, and the relentless cries of dying beasts.

"KEEP FIRING!" Robert ordered, his voice cutting through the chaos.

The archers did not stop. The next round of arrows was already nudged, ready to rain hell upon the enemy. The battle had only just begun.