The army marched out of Bluehaze City like a steel tide.
Where cavalry hooves passed, the ground looked flipped inside-out—no grass left intact.
Because Jasper's cultivation and riding were both strong, he was assigned to Winged Cavalry.
At the front: Vanguard Riders, scouting and drawing enemy attention. Behind them: mounted archers and Firelock Dragoons. Winged Cavalry rode in the center, while the rear was a massive wave of infantry, firelock troops, heavy infantry, spearmen, and siege engines.
Winged Cavalry was split into five squads of two hundred. Squad leaders were Bronze Tier Rank 7. Regular members were mostly Rank 5.
Jasper asked his squad leader why there were no mages or conventional archers in their formation.
The leader answered, "Mages hit hard and are harder to target. They've been sent to raid. Archers are escorting them. Plan is: while we assault, they strike from the side. That way our siege engines get breathing room."
"Even if siege engines can't crack the wall, concentrated magic can punch breaches. Then the Vanguard Riders open the path."
He added grimly, "Normally, siege engines never reach firing range in an assault. They get destroyed by wall defenses before they can work. Only when the defenders are overwhelmed does equipment decide the battle."
"But we bring siege engines anyway. Because after we take a city, defenses are usually shattered. We'll need our own weapons to hold it."
Night Camp
By evening, tents rose like mushrooms. Fires dotted the dark like a second sky. Patrol cavalry circled constantly.
If the enemy broke into camp now, it would be a massacre—unprepared soldiers, clustered horses, and no hardened defenses.
Jasper lay in a six-man tent. The other five slept like rocks.
Tomorrow meant war.
Dawn
Fog thickened between the trees as soldiers buckled armor and sharpened edges.
Nobody ate full—only half. A full belly slowed you down. A slow soldier died.
Windcloud City's first defense line was 50,000 ordinary skeleton infantry.
Cannon fodder—meant to drain the Vanguard Riders.
Officer Wang wouldn't throw cavalry into a meat grinder. Vanguard and Firelock Dragoons used roaming hit-and-run attacks, never plunging into the mass.
Against well-equipped, disciplined cavalry, the skeleton line was garbage.
The fight lasted barely half an hour.
Skeletons were slaughtered. Only a few vanguard riders died; most injuries were minor.
"This is where war starts," the Winged Cavalry captain murmured beside Jasper.
Jasper frowned. "The next line is the main force?"
The captain shook his head. "No. Skeletons usually keep one disposable line outside the city… then it's all wall defenses."
"Before the wall breaks, we'll bleed heavily. Assault is the climax—but the real battle begins after we enter."
He paused, eyes hard. "Once inside, it becomes a mess. Skeleton elites hide in ruins, ambush the rear, carve into ranged units. Every corner can be a trap."
"So don't think you're 'opening the way.' Think of one thing: kill as many skeletons as possible. That's what helps the army most."
He slapped Jasper's shoulder. "Earn enough merit and you'll be an officer too. I like you, kid. Don't die."
Windcloud City — The Charge
They halted at the calculated maximum range of the city's wall defenses.
Cavalry, by nature, were targets—perfect silhouettes for ballistae, artillery, and ranged volleys.
Vanguard leaders blew whistles.
One squad after another surged forward, spread wide to reduce casualties.
The moment they entered range, wall defenses began their endless cycle:
Load. Fire. Load. Fire. Load. Fire.
Until the last bolt, the last stone, the last shot.
Vanguard casualties spiked.
Then Winged Cavalry whistles screamed.
Elite riders poured forward.
Then more whistles—different tones for different branches.
Firelock Dragoons. Light cavalry. Heavy cavalry. Mounted archers.
All cavalry units charged.
Behind them, infantry surged as well—using the cavalry as moving bait so slow units could reach the wall before defenses refocused.
Jasper flattened against his horse, eyes narrowed.
Explosions hammered the field. Dust and shrapnel rose in curtains.
He knew what came next—this was only the wall equipment. Soon came ranged skeleton volleys.
Then the battlefield turned into a nightmare of magic.
Spellfire burst like festival fireworks—
Except every "firework" was aimed at your chest.
Riders fell in droves.
Jasper wasn't spared. An ice spike slammed his torso. His assassin garb absorbed part of it, but the impact still threw him off his horse.
He rolled, sprang up, and vaulted back into the saddle.
Don't lie down. Lying down gets you finished.
Then the Cloudspire Empire mages arrived.
Magic slammed the wall. Siege weapons shattered. Parts of the wall cracked. Entire sections collapsed, devices tumbling down like broken toys.
A breach opened.
Jasper followed the vanguard through.
Inside—
Elite skeletons.
Vanguard riders smashed the first line open. Winged Cavalry rode tight behind, a solid press like a moving tower—trampling bone and blade alike—then spreading out deeper into the city.
Firelock Dragoons and mounted archers poured in after, supporting the push.
The soundscape became hell itself:
Steel on steel.Gunshots cracking.Hooves pounding.Explosions.Screams.Bones snapping.
Jasper gripped the Altair Longsword.
Around him lay scattered weapons, shattered ribs, bleached skulls.
Still, he didn't relax.
Scott's enchanted arrows were a lesson burned into his spine.
Then—
BANG.
A Winged Cavalryman not far from Jasper suddenly had a hole punched clean through his heart. The body snapped backward, slammed down, dead before it finished falling.
Jasper's eyes locked toward the direction of the shot.
His voice turned ice-cold.
"…A sniper."