Finally, the army of peasants were within 50 yards of the gates. For the first time, the disorganized mass did something. A series of throaty throaty shouts resounded from the front to back.

“STOP!”

“STAND STILL!”

“HALT!”

Miraculously, the jumbled together army of civilians who had never been trained all stopped and stood in place. The people on the front lines held their muskets straight and returned fire. Their individual aim was subpar at best, but a good amount of their shots managed to place a target. This was because they had made up for this by closing the distance to half of the weapons effective shooting range; besides, they were aiming at a wall of soldiers, not a single target. The row behind came up and began to shoot while the others reloaded. It was the same strategy that the royal guard were using. They took over double the time per shot due to only having received rudimentary training in it, but this strategy proved to be correct. In a straight up shoot off, one thing mattered: numbers. Like during their charge, those who fell were replaced quickly. While it would be possible to push forward and reach the gate without such a stratagem, it was the best for our side. The more of those soldiers who fell back once we reached the gate, the more who would be there to support the cannons on our second, much more lethal push. The longer the royal guard held and refused to retreat, the more of an edge we gained.

This rally continued over an hour. By that time half the enemies five thousand had been wounded. There was no way to know exactly but our troops had taken over double their loses. This result seemed poor, but we still stood over nine thousand strong while they had a little over two and a half thousand. At last, the royal guards began to retreat. Noticing this, a call to push was raised.

“Forward!”

The gate was made quick work of, and our men began to squeeze through. I cringed as I watched, knowing this portion to be the truest test of our men’s resolve. That same ear bursting explosion began to erupt as it had in the assault on the arsenal. Cannons pounded away at the narrow entrance that people desperately tried to funnel through. People tripped on the pile of bodies that had begun to build. The palace was a mere 40 yards away from the gate entrance, yet this would be the most arduous struggle of the entire battle.

I watched as lives were thrown away like that of flies, it was a wretched thing. They continued to make their way through the gates as if they had no concept of death. Their valiance would never be forgotten. The distance between each individual person had widened as the full brunt of our force made its way in. This reduced the effectiveness of cannon fire, but as muskets began to remix into the fray once the royal guard had reorganized, it began to look grim. Another two thousand had been wounded during the first ten-yard push. Now that everyone had made it past that gate, the causulties had become reduced, but they were nothing to scoff it. The original marching pace had turned into a sprint as the worry of ruining the formation had become non-existent; whatever semblance of a formation we previously had was gone. The mad run continued, and hundreds fell by the minute. The musket fire had become more accurate as the mass got closer. But we were gaining. We were so close.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Seeing the first row of people contacting the enemy, I knew we had won. The guards’ muskets had long been replaced with sabers and the peasants wielded their myriad of weapons. We had been whittled down to five thousand, a horrifyingly low remainder of our original force which was over thirteen thousand by the time we had reached the palace. Still, we outnumbered them by double and there was no way to make up for this gap in close combat. I began to walk towards the bloodbath. Stepping over the wall of carcasses that had formed at the gate, I walked towards the battle which had begun to favor us. By now, the survivors of this would only accept one result: annihilation. The royal guard where fiercely massacred with a savageness I hadn’t seen even in the previous battle at the arsenal.

After another hour of combat, the fighting had begun to die down. The royal guard was nearly eliminated, and men rushed into the palace to apprehend everyone inside. I could only hope they still had a minute amount of mercy in them to spare the unarmed staff.

Walking through the field of corpses, my heart sank. I had caused this; I had created this result. It was an inescapable reality. These people had laid their bodies for a better future; one they would never witness. They had followed through with the ultimate sacrifice. I would never amount to an inch of what these men had done. Rest in peace fine men, be assured; what you fought for was not naught. I will make sure.

“This is treason! I’ll have the lot of you killed!” Johann III screamed furiously.

His voice was overpowered by the jeers at the fallen King who was being dragged out of his palace. My mother was carried out by two people. She remained motionless, having collapsed during the arrest. Maybe it was all too much for her, but the beat of her heart had ceased in that moment. She was declared dead. My brothers similarly struggled alongside Johann in vain. They had not committed his sins, but they were caught up in his foolish beliefs. They believed themselves to be divine inheritors and were complicit in his reckless tyranny, never once questioning him. A silver lining was that the people found enough heart in themselves to spare those who didn’t resist within the palace.

Walking up to the steps of the palace door, I pulled out a sheet of paper. Loudly my voice echoed across the large courtyard. Silence began to permeate as everyone began to understand his words.

“My dear subjects; I sorrowfully address you today. Today we have become stained in blood. The previous King has neglected his duty to you. My brothers have failed to correct him. He has reigned not as a King of Rhinsburg, but a Tyrant. His predecessor similarly failed the Nation. The people have cried for reason, for justice. The age-old institution of Parliament was neglected, abused, and ignored. They attempted to reason with an irreconcilable dictator. MP’s petitioned for rights, and for balance. To the cry of the people, of our nation, I answer – For Justice!”

Cheers resounded across the streets as it concluded. “Long live King Emil!”

For the next month I resided in a noble’s estate while the palace underwent restoration. Parliament began its first official convention and my declaration as well as the new Act limiting my rights spread across the nation. Somehow, I had managed to avoid a full-on revolution. This could only be considered one of the best results.