Chapter 358: The Final Moments

The northern gate rose, and Alfred walked in, leading the Unyielding behind him. His eyes were sharp, looking at the sign before him. Black smoke was flying in the air in the distance, and the corpses of Ammary and Commonwealth greeted him. Walking forward, he looked down at the Commonwealth flag that had been trampled into the dirt before looking up at his flag.

With a proud smile, he turned to face the men who were inside waiting for him. "Get the city under control. Put the fires out and deal with the people." Alfred gave the order, making the soldier waiting for him disperse. Whilst it did mean he was spreading his men thin, he had no choice. The fires alone were enough to cause irreversible damage, but adding the people into the equation meant he couldn’t wait until the war was finished.

Alfred carried on, his steps gentle like he was taking a stroll through a garden. Around him, a few citizens of Torun saw the Emperor who destroyed their home and tried to attack him in a desperate rage, only to be cut down by the Unyielding, not even deserving a glance from Alfred.

’War really is awful,’Alfred sighed internally. Looking around, he saw the flames consuming whatever they could. Even with all the destruction going on, when he tuned out the noise and smell, the sight was almost like a painting. A tragic but strangely beautiful painting depicting the end of an era. But when he let himself be immersed in everything, the beauty of the scene vanished, making him remember the truth of what was happening in the city.

In the distance, he saw a small fountain in the middle of the city, the water had dried up inside, and corpses lay all around. Men and women, obviously at the lowest levels of society, scavenged the bodies like vultures, taking boots, money and anything they could get their hands on.

When they heard the approaching army, they slipped into the alleyways like rats and watched, not wishing to get close. Alfred scoffed and shook his head. He didn’t blame them. They stayed behind because they had nowhere to go. He could fault someone for trying to make their life better. After admiring the sights around for a second, Alfred moved on.

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"FREZEE!" Oskar stopped in his tracks and sighed. His guards tried to lift their weapons to defend their liege, but were stopped by him. Turning around, he lifted his hands and looked at the Ammary soldiers going to surround him. "IDENTIFY YOURSELF!"

"Oskar Laska. Heir to the Laska duchy." Oskar said casually, and the soldier looked at one another.

"He’s the one, right?" One of them asked, getting a nod in reply. "Come with us." Oskar wanted to deny, but knew that he wasn’t in the position to say no. With a deep sigh, he followed behind the soldiers and headed towards the Palace. It wasn’t a long walk, and eventually he arrived at the barricade set up by the Ammary soldiers.

He could see in the distance the brutal fighting taking place to storm the palace doors, and although the Commonwealth army was fighting bravely, they were being driven back. "General. A man who claims to be a Laska has arrived." William looked down and walked over to Oskar.

Oskar stared at William’s eye and couldn’t help but be impressed by the old man. His sharp eyes were filled with wisdom mixed with a deep chill. Oskar could tell in an instant that the man before him was the real deal. "Show me your family crest." His voice was deep, and Oskar, without thinking, lifted his hand, showing one of his rings. "It’s real, return to your duties," William spoke to the soldiers who delivered Oskar, making them leave.

"It’s an honour, Duke." Oskar lowered his head slightly. He may have been promised the title of duke after the war, but right now, he was only the heir and in front of William, a child.

"Leave the pleasantries. I’ll make this quick. His Majesty is happy with you for keeping your promise and decided he should do the same. You no longer need to worry about it all being a trick." William looked behind him and signalled for someone to come over. A man walked over and handed Oskar a letter. "This was something His Majesty put together to put your mind at ease. Proof of his word."

Oskar looked at it and saw the seal of the Lindonfall family. He knew with just that, not even needing to read its contents. "My uncle?" Oskar had to ask, and William, without looking up, nodded.

"He is outside the city under watch alongside the Princess. You may leave the city. You are no longer required here." Oskar played with the thought in his mind. His goal the whole time had been to leave, but now that he knew he was safe, he didn’t really want to. His survival was no longer his main concern. He wanted to see how it would end, and after all, he played an active part in helping with Torun’s downfall.

"HIS MAJESTY THE EMPEROR HAS ARRIVED!" A soldier called out, and William finally stopped looking at the map in front of him and got up. Walking away, Oskar followed behind and saw Alfred leading the Unyielding behind him. It was the first time he ever saw the Emperor, and he couldn’t help but be in slight awe of the sight.

The respect directed towards Alfred was real, and even someone like William, a man he could instantly tell was someone who had seen it all, even made himself slightly subservient. It was strange to see a man who was younger than him garner such respect, but looking at Alfred, he could understand why. He had heard stories of the Blessed Ones in the past, about the first Severian Emperor and the tales of the Divine King of Pradora who plunged the world into the years of Darkness.

It was like a sight from those tales. The city burning in the background was the perfect backdrop for Alfred leading his forces. Alfred gave a single nod toward William and carried on walking. Pulling his sword, the cold steel reflected the sunlight, a stark contrast to the pitch black armour he wore. Oskar was in a trance and only broke out of it after Alfred vanished to join the battle.

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"KEEP PUSHING!" Marcus yelled happily as he swung his sword, killing a man. Adam moved in and blocked a blow aimed at his commander. In the distance, he saw Snowid falling back into the palace, his men covering the door and closing it. What was a defence made up of thousands of soldiers had dropped to the hundreds, only those loyal or crazy enough to die remaining.

Marcus kicked forward, knocking a man down. His breathing was heavy, but the excitement of the war nearly being won drove him to continue. "HIS MAJESTY HAS ARRIVED!" The cry from behind caused the attackers to have a second wind, as a gap opened for the Unyielding. Alfred led the charge, his sword blocking an attack aimed at killing him.

With cold precision, the Uneyilding attacked, killing men with ease. Alfred moved, stepping to the side to avoid a blow. A second came from above, and A Unyielding blocked the blow for him, with Alfred stabbing his sword deep into the man’s chest, killing him. The hectic melee was soon broken with the additional support. The Unyielding were fresh and energised, a luxury for the Commonwealth forces.

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Snwoid stumbled, grabbing onto a wall as he did. His remaining eye was slowly closing, but fighting through the pain and tiredness, he forced himself to continue. Servants who remained behind quickly gathered whatever riches they could and tried to flee or hide. They shot glances at Snowid, wondering if he would punish them, but his eyes were focused solely on the set of double doors ahead.

A trial of bloody handprints followed on the wall behind him, and his wild hair had gone dry from the blood and filth of the battle he had just been in. Each step took everything he had, and after a minute, he reached the doors.

Pushing it open, he walked in and saw his throne bathed in sunlight from the window above, next to it his crown on a soft pillow. He stumbled walking towards it, his heavy breathing the only thing that echoed in the only room. Stepping up the first step, he collapsed under the weight of his body, trying to make his way up.

Touching the cold steps he wanted to push himself up but couldn’t, his strength finally giving out. "fuck." With a quiet whisper, Snowid could only flip himself over and lie on his back, looking at the double doors. He wanted to fight on until the end, but even moving his fingers had become hard.

Blood slowly fell down the steps, and holding his stomach, Snowid could tell it was the end. Leaning his head back, he saw his family’s banner flying high, looking down on him. He wanted to fight on for it, but couldn’t.

It was over, and he knew it. Soon, that banner would be cut off and replaced, his throne for someone else. In the distance, the opening appeared, and Snowid forced himself to look up. The golden hair that had burned itself in his memory was the first thing to appear, followed by a pair of cold blue eyes that could rival gems. With a blade dripping blood, Alfred stepped forward, the two locking eyes with one another.