The next day.

3 hours after the first light of dawn.

CRAAAASSSSSHHHH!! An earth-shattering sound of stone crashing towards the ground deafened the senses of the world. An enormous dust cloud stirred in the wake of this destruction and veiled the scene of this carnage.

At long last, the mighty, insurmountable gates of Caroxtel City, the Capital of the South Aislan Empire, had fallen. And in its fall, it had left a gaping hole in the impenetrable walls of the city.

"Cease fire," the Duke of Auberville, dressed in stainless, immaculate clothing, ordered with a raise of his hands. His orders were quickly passed down and the sounds of artillery fire quietened. Silence reigned within the army's encampment as the men waited with bated breaths for the dust clouds to clear.

After nearly ten minutes of waiting, the dust settled and a clear view of the scorched interiors of the capital city appeared.

"After a mere eight days of bombardment," the Duke muttered, "the legend of the 'Infallible Caroxtel' has been defeated!"

He then eyed the line of tall iron devices loaned to him by his sponsors for this very purpose and remarked, "Such is the treacherous power born out of the [Engineering Path]."

It was impossible to not feel humbled after witnessing such devastating power. The Duke of Auberville, being worldly-wise and a veteran of the battlefield, could recognize the change in the era.

The introduction of 'artillery' and 'mechanization' heralded the coming of a new age. An age that would be decided not by wisemen and cultivators but by the strength of a *Power's fire and steel. {AN: *Power here refers to the various worldly organizations and countries.}

"I did not betray my motherland, the Empire. No. Not at all." He shook his head. "I simply alighted a sinking vessel and boarded one that would remain afloat in these new waters."

The Duke soon squashed such distracting thoughts from his head and called for his adjutants. Upon their arrival, he ordered. "Separate a third of the army and have them continue surrounding the capital. The rest will ride with me into the city and force it to surrender."

"Your orders have been received, my liege! This servant will now leave to carry it out." The adjutants offered a bow and rushed to accomplish the task.

Soon, the appropriate arrangements were made and the Duke of Auberville rode forth into the capital city of the South Aislan Empire with two-thirds of his men in tow. It was now time to force the inhabitants to surrender and for his faction to plant its flag atop the highest peaks of the imperial palace.

---

"It's too quiet."

The instant he entered the city after navigating past all the strewn, smouldering rubble, the Duke of Auberville immediately recognized the apparent strangeness in the air.

The city was too quiet. Almost as if it was empty.

"Did the inhabitants leave?" he muttered to himself. However, he very quickly shook his head and denied that conclusion. "Impossible."

It was impossible for all the million or so citizens of the capital city to have evacuated. The Duke had surrounded the entire perimeter of the massive city with his men and had scouts watching the city around the clock. Additionally, he even had a few squads sweeping the surrounding 30km-radius area in order to guard against the possibility of secret tunnels and emergency exits. Therefore, when he said that it was impossible, he meant that it was impossible for even a mosquito to escape from this net without his knowledge.

Stolen novel; please report.

But then, why was the city so quiet? Where were all the citizens?

"Evacuation shelters? But I don't recall the capital having any of those. The records inherited from my predecessors do not speak of any such construct like that either."

The prestigious Auberville line could be traced as far back as the founding of the South Aislan Empire. Dubbed as the 'Empire's Guardian' there were seldom a few matters concerning the empire that this family did not know about. In fact, even this capital city was constructed under the advice of the Auberville family's ancestors.

"Fetch me the map," the Duke of Auberville instructed his men. Soon, an adjutant walked up to the Duke and presented him with a rolled animal skin parchment.

Receiving the parchment in his hands, the Duke immediately unfurled it to view its contents. Lo behold, inscribed on the animal skin parchment were the original city plans of Caroxtel City!

The Duke scanned the map with a hawkish gaze. He ran his eyes over every line and corner, matching the ancient map with his more recent memories of the city. Many things were different and not all streets ended or extended in the same way as detailed on the map. However, the Duke's severe perusal allowed him to confirm that the underlying foundations of the city remained the same.

In other words, it was impossible for an evacuation shelter, or other similar constructs, to exist! This meant that the inhabitants of the capital were still within the city!

Putting aside the ancient map, the Duke ordered his captains. "Have the announcers call for the city's surrender."

The order was conveyed and a batch of men, practitioners with minor accomplishment in the [Speech Path], rode out into the streets of the dead silent city to announce its surrender.

"Hear ye, hear ye, residents of Caroxtel. You are surrounded by the armies of the Duke of Auberville. Surrender and the magnanimous Duke shall grant you mercy. Resist and you will be slaughtered!"

"Hear ye, hear ye..."

The shouts of the announcers echoed endlessly throughout the dead-silent streets of the capital city.

Surrounded by his personal guards the Duke of Auberville waited with furrowed brows. He watched as the announcers headed deeper and deeper into the branching streets of the capital city, eventually disappearing past his line of sight. With each passing minute, even the calls for surrender turned fainter and more distant.

Ten minutes passed and the shouts of the announcers could no longer be heard.

Twenty minutes passed and silence reigned within the city.

Thirty minutes passed and the Duke of Auberville finally noticed the distressing, gloomy air within the city. An ominous premonition birthed and took root within his heart.

"My lord," the Duke's adjutant softly called. "Much time has passed and the announcers have yet to return."

The Duke merely nodded his head. He then turned towards the captains under his command and instructed. "Form a few squads and follow the roads taken by the announcers. Find out why they have yet to return."

The respective captains each nodded their heads and immediately went to complete the Duke's orders. A few squads were formed and the search party left.

"Be careful," warned the Duke.

Keeping their guards up and shields in hand, the squads each took a road to follow and disappeared into the eerie silent streets of the capital city. In the absolute stillness of the city, only the clanks of the soldiers' armour and the neighs of the horses could be heard. Eventually, even those sounds disappeared.

Time passed listlessly once more. Ten minutes went by. And then twenty minutes. Then thirty... Once again, no signs of the men who had ventured into the city remained. It seemed as if all of them had been devoured whole by the darkened maws of the deadly still city!

If the previous disappearance of the announcers had birthed an ominous premonition within the heart of the Duke, then this disappearance of his search parties had confirmed it.

Something sinister lurked within the shadows of this city. And this sinister thing had silently swallowed the men who had dared to step into its darkness.

An ugly expression appeared on the Duke's handsome face at this realization. Meanwhile, the seed of fear had been implanted within the hearts of the men that followed in his company.

There was a saying in this world: 'The oldest and strongest of all emotions experienced by a human is fear. And the greatest of all fears is the fear of the unknown.'

The capital city of Caroxtel was currently the den of the unknown.