After having successfully incited the crowd into arming themselves and forming a suicidal resistance, Rodriguez left the underground hall and arrived at an adjacent antechamber. A long stone table and thirteen stone chairs were within the dimly lit quarter.
Nine out of the thirteen chairs were occupied; the head chair being left for Rodriguez's occupation. The instant the Regent of the Empire entered the space, the other occupants rose to their feet to greet him.
"Greeting Lord Regent," they spoke in unison.
Waving his hands and signalling them to take a seat, Rodriguez occupied the main chair. A solemn look appeared on his handsome face as his citrine eyes narrowed in thoughtful consideration.
"Report," he said, a short few seconds later.
At his command, a tall, lanky man sporting a short moustache rose to his feet and began reading the report in his hands. "Reporting to Lord Regent, the enemy has currently occupied... their forces number thus... a supply line was formed last night... forces are no longer scattered and are a lot more cautious... they almost discovered one of the entrances to the underground sewage tunnels but fortunately we managed to collapse the tunnel." After a dozen minutes of incessant rambling, he, the Minister of Domestic Law-Enforcement, finished his report.
Rubbing his forehead, Rodriguez lightly spoke, "As expected of the Auberville Duke; sensible and cautious. Seeing that he cannot force his way through the city, he chose to engage us in a war of attrition."
"Is this not a good turn in the tide for us, Lord? Does this not get us a lot of time?" Another minister spoke up, voice coloured with hope.
"Not at all," Rodriguez unhesitatingly crushed his hopes. "A war of attrition is the worst possible outcome for us."
Seeing the looks of doubt and inquiry on the other's faces, he explained. "I am certain that all of you here are aware that our only three advantages against the enemy are our familiarity with the city, our greater numbers, and our people's selfless, heroic spirit. It is the combination of these three advantages that allowed us to come out victorious in our conflicts."
"Having said that, these advantages are not ours to keep," professed the Duke. "Firstly, with more time, our enemy is certain to grow familiar with the city. Therefore, our first advantage will be nullified."
"Secondly, the advantage of our numbers shrinks with each subsequent conflict. We lose 5 men for every 1 soldier that we defeat. While it is true that the streets grow more narrow and dense as they progress deeper into the city, so does our enemy's caution. Since the start, our greater numbers weren't something that was going to last."
"Finally, the spirit of our people. Currently, it is akin to a blazing fire that will incinerate everything in its path. However, much like a blazing fire, it will only last until the firewood runs out. I estimate that after a week, our people will lose all their spirits and turn into helpless lambs waiting to be slaughtered."
"And that shall spell our defeat." Extending his index finger, he repeated. "One week's worth of time. Victory or defeat will be decided during this period."
He then closed his mouth and looked around the room. A tense silence descended upon the underground chamber. None dared to speak.
A few minutes later, Rodriguez spoke once again. "Has there been any news about my nephew and the army that was sent to conquer New Hope Port City?"
At his question, one of the men shook his head and replied, "All our attempts to communicate with the outside world have been intercepted by the enemy. No information is being set out and none are being sent in. We are completely blind."
His words sent the room spiralling into even greater depression.
"We can only count on the Heavens now," the Minister of Domestic Law-Enforcement despondently remarked.
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None of the others spoke out against him and even the Regent maintained his silence. However, a peculiar light filled with rage and unwillingness shined within his eyes.
"Whether the Heavens decide to help us or not remains to be seen in the future. For now, we have to count on ourselves." Saying so, Rodriguez led the discussion to plan for the future. With the enemy having changed their strategy it was imperative that they, as the defenders, also change their strategies to match the enemy.
Wars were often like this. A delicate see-saw of schemes and strategies. The first one to lose balance would be the one defeated.
After the discussion, which went on for a few hours, was finished, the party rose from their seats and left the underground chamber in unison. Guided by flickering torches, they were soon out of their underground retreat.
Just as they had made it out, a piercing shout struck the Regent and his subordinates.
"Regent Rodriguez, you damnable bastard! How can you do this!? How could you do such inhumane things!? My son! My grandson! They're all dead!! Curse you! CURSE YOU!!"
Without blinking his eyes, Rodriguez calmly said, "Gentlemen, there seems a tool of the demons in our midst. He dares to defame the souls of our heroes and profane their sacrifices."
"Capture this man and cut his tendons and tongue. He shall then be made to wear a bag of the black powder and then be used to lay a trap for the invaders. Let us use a demon to fell others of their damnable kind."
The words that he had spoken with an even tone were beyond chilling. Even the accuser, who had been screaming at the Regent, felt chilled by the sheer inhumanness of the man.
"Yo-you demon! You're even worse than the invading--!" Before he could complete his sentence, he was intercepted by a guard and swiftly had his mouth stuffed. While he tried to struggle free, the struggles of an old man could not supplant the strength of two young guards. Soon, he was dragged away.
Having settled this unexpected incident, Rodriguez turned around and levelled a placid gaze toward his twelve subordinates. He then softly spoke, "Such a shame. Even our righteous Minister of Revenue has fallen to the alluring magic of the devils. I pray that the Heavens take into consideration his untiring labours for the Empire in the past and grant his soul the easy passage to the afterlife."
"May he be redeemed in death," Rodriguez chanted.
"May he be redeemed in death," repeated his subordinates. Their eyes showed obvious approval towards the Regent's words.
The party then separated and headed their ways to complete their duties.
---
The battle within Caroxtel City changed as the engagements between the invaders and the resistors grew less frequent. However, the brutality of it all remained unchanged.
The civilians of the Royal Capital were nowhere near as trained as the soldiers of the Duke. However, their blazing spirits, which were ignited by the words of the Regent, incinerated all opposition that they came across.
The Duke's forces grew more and more familiar with urban warfare with each passing day and became more resistant to the attacks of the city's savage populace. While the usage of artillery continued to remain unfeasible due to the urban nature of the battles, the troops became increasingly familiar and creative in the usage of hand-held firearms. Of course, this growing familiarity was also true in the case of the city's inhabitants.
They said that wars were the crucible for human progress. And it is only within this crucible that waste is separated from treasure.
Firearms, as a whole, were relatively new inventions in this world. Their use cases were still nascent and their coordination with regular soldiers and powerful practitioners was completely non-existent. However, with this war, the creative ingenuity of humans exploded and both sides became increasingly familiar with their usage.
At this moment, it could be said that throughout the whole world, it was the South Aislan Continent that was most familiar with the terrible destruction born of these weapons. It could also be said that it was here that the future of hot artillery was cemented as an indispensable part of the future. Even practitioners and cultivators, who were usually dismissive towards such developments, wholeheartedly agreed with this evaluation.
The dusk of the 'Cold Weapons Era' was in sight and the dawn of the 'Hot Weapons Era' was just over the horizon.
Time passed and the 'One Week' deadline soon approached. All Outer and Inner districts had fallen into the enemy's hands and only the Royal District remained. A total of 70% of the city's population had been slaughtered. The Auberville Duke's victory was in sight and defeat for the South Aislan Empire was all but certain.
During the dusk of the fifth day, when the Auberville Duke's forces retreated after another unsuccessful attempt to break into the Royal District, a furious dust cloud rapidly approached the Duke's forces camped outside the city.
The scouts, who had been stationed to monitor any changes, neared this dust cloud to identify it. However, this choice of theirs proved to be fatal as the scouts who had drawn near never returned.
Just when the enemy camp noticed the arrival of this furious dust storm, a shout reverberated throughout the storm.
"Spare no quarter and attack! The Capital counts upon us to be rescued! Ride quickly!!"
Alexandros, the boy emperor, had finally arrived with his cavalry.