Things unfolded exactly as Yun Zhe had predicted. While Kurman's arrows were formidable and difficult to eliminate due to their concealment, the distance and the height of the city walls significantly reduced their lethality. Furthermore, Kurman only had four siege ladders, and the archers' cover was limited, turning the siege ladders into veritable death traps for Kurman soldiers.
Morrison sensed something was wrong as he climbed the ladder. When he jumped down and saw the soldiers lying on the ground all around him, he realized that the enemy wasn't incapable of pushing the ladder away. The purpose of keeping the ladder was to draw their attention to this spot, so that they could wipe them out in one fell swoop.
Give them hope, and then use that hope to wipe them out in one fell swoop.
A surge of anger swept through Morrison's mind. He knew he had been played, and feelings of humiliation, resentment, despair, and regret instantly enveloped him.
Morrison's soldiers were climbing the ladders, and the remaining soldiers were gathered below them. In the distance, there were archers he had carefully laid in ambush in the woods.
But all of this was meaningless now. Morrison cut down one man, blocked a volley of crossbow bolts with his shield, and retreated to the wall. Looking at the people going up and down the ladder, a sense of desolation washed over him. He wanted to shout "Run!" but no words came out.
"Perhaps the enemy has reached their defensive limit. We had more people to begin with, and although we suffered greater losses, the enemy didn't gain any advantage. Maybe we can hold on a little longer," Morrison thought, his strength surging again as he charged back into the battle.
This time, however, he was not so lucky. A spear suddenly swept across his stomach, and as he bent over, a small soldier struck him on the head with the hilt of his sword.
In the end, Morrison only vaguely saw that the little man had a pair of pointed ears before he completely lost consciousness.
When Morrison regained consciousness, he found himself tied to a hardwood chair in a basement. Only a ray of sunlight shone through a low window onto the opposite side of the room. In the sunlight, there was a table and a chair, and standing next to the chair was a man—the short soldier who had knocked him unconscious.
“Water…” Morrison said hoarsely.
Then the short soldier picked up a glass of water and helped him drink it.
Morrison felt much better and asked hoarsely, "You are..."
"I am the current supreme ruler of Dorgnitzburg. I have a question for you: besides your troops, are there any other troops near this castle?"
Morrison was taken aback; the question was somewhat unexpected. He shook his head. "No, I don't think so..."
The short man nodded and stepped aside. "I don't want to waste time. Let me put it this way: your soldiers have all surrendered. Of course, there were a few who were too stubborn or too slow, and I've already dealt with them. As for you, tell me something I don't know, and maybe I can let you go?"
"Hmph, what do you want to know?" Morrison quickly calculated and understood the gist of the matter. It seemed that after he was knocked unconscious, their morale completely collapsed, leading to their surrender or rout. Winning by knocking out their commander proved his judgment was correct; the enemy had indeed reached their limit, it was just a pity.
“We have indeed reached our limit, but the situation is actually a little better than you think,” the short soldier said in a low voice, as if he knew what Morrison was thinking.
Morrison felt a chill run down his spine again, realizing for the first time that he had been tactically defeated so thoroughly.
"Don't you have anything to say?" The short soldier drew his longsword—an elven longsword?!
"I... I'll tell you the truth about whatever you want to know!" Morrison quickly interjected, trying to think of a solution.
"Has the Kurman family betrayed us?" the short man asked coldly, resting his longsword on his hand.
Morrison was troubled. The question of whether his superior had truly betrayed him had always been one of his doubts. Ever since Belvado's military advance had reached his borders, Lord Kurman's actions had become increasingly perplexing. Although his friend Holden had hinted at it more than once, and he had heard plenty of stories about greater prospects by following the lord, he had never truly believed that Lord Kurman had sided with Belvado.
“I don’t know. I think the adults may have their own considerations,” Morrison said in a low voice after thinking for a long time. Then he glanced at the short soldier, who seemed very confused by his answer and thought for a long time.
"If Kuhlman really betrays us, will you still follow him?"
This was a death trap! Morrison's heart tightened; he immediately understood the insidious nature of the question. Loyalty was a soldier's most basic quality, and answering yes or no to this question essentially made you a traitor. This wasn't a simple right or wrong question; it was a question of… whose side you were on.
Morrison couldn't help but think more highly of this short soldier, or rather, this short officer from Donic.
“I cannot betray my country, but I also believe that Lord Kurman would not betray us; he must have his reasons.” Morrison became even more nervous after speaking, because the short man remained expressionless after hearing this, and even the confusion he had felt after the first question was gone.
After a long silence, when Morrison could no longer bear the oppressive atmosphere, the short officer spoke again, "Why did you decide to come back and attack this castle? You should know that although you have the numerical advantage, your chances are actually very slim."
Morrison took a deep breath. The direction the question was taking made him relax; clearly, his answer had given him a glimmer of hope. Just as he thought this, he saw the short officer give him a disdainful smile. Morrison's heart tightened again. He dared not be careless and carefully considered his answer.
Seeking revenge for his friend Holden was one aspect, but more importantly, it stemmed from a sense of responsibility. After all, losing a city and doing nothing but running away would be too embarrassing. However, this answer probably wouldn't please the person before him. Morrison pondered deeply and finally came up with a more suitable reply.
"I didn't originally intend to attack the city like this. I didn't expect you to retake the castle so quickly. I had no choice but to try while you were still establishing your foothold."
"Aren't you afraid of vampires?" The short officer finally sat down at the other table, a smile appearing on his face for the first time.
Morrison was somewhat embarrassed. He hadn't actually believed in the vampire thing at first, but the soldiers kept talking about it, so he had to treat it as true. As for whether he was afraid, of course he was, but to believe that a vampire was serving in Donic's army, he was more inclined to believe that it was a fabrication by the soldiers to cover up their incompetence.
“I don’t believe any vampire would be Donic’s soldier,” Morrison replied firmly.
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