Chapter 224: Lyon's Last Chance
The sudden ambush ended as quickly as it began.
Though it had seemed like a major assault, the Lyon forces suffered only light casualties. The dead numbered just twelve, and there were even fewer wounded.
They were fortunate to have detected the assault early, and the enemy had retreated swiftly and decisively.
Clearly, the attackers were only trying to harass them. The desert folk hadn't withdrawn at all. Instead, they vanished by some unknown means and began launching raids roughly every half hour.
After all, this was their territory. The Lyon army held no advantage here.
Inside the command tent, the Silvermoon Knight rubbed his temples.
A persistent headache gnawed at his nerves. At his age, with half a foot in the grave, he should hardly have been burdened with such strain.
Ever since the failed assault on Sweetdew City, everything had spiraled out of control.
But there was no turning back now. The Silvermoon Knight forced himself to focus and began discussing the next course of action with his commanders.
The desert folk would not give them any time to rest. Better to launch another attack while they still had strength left. Whether they succeeded or failed, this would be the final battle for Sweetdew City.
Allen stood off to the side. As a mere attendant, he had no right to speak.
But as he listened to the commanders discuss retaliation via ambushes, poison, and other underhanded methods, he couldn't help but frown. Something felt off. Their words sounded more like emotional venting than proper strategy.
For the first time, Allen felt a sense of unfamiliarity toward his own people.
He recalled the young boy who had been killed in a desert ambush while they were clearing the battlefield. When the boy's brother came to claim the body, there had been a smile on his face, as if the boy had deserved to die.
Until now, Allen had believed that killing a coward afraid of war, for the sake of family honor and victory, was merely excessive, not fundamentally wrong.
But the Silvermoon Knight's earlier words echoed in his mind.
If war can override doctrine... then can imperial authority do the same?
In an instant, Allen could think of a thousand justifications to do so.
To preserve Lyon's rule, had the royal family committed acts that violated doctrine? Using the greater good as an excuse, convincing themselves it was necessary... Could any evil be concealed that way?
A deep confusion settled over him. He prayed for guidance, but the Lord of Dawn offered no answer.
Allen did not yet know that, in the near future, he would witness the Lord of Dawn's descent with his own eyes, become the youngest legend in the empire, and watch his master pass away.
At that very same moment, Ambrose was admiring his handiwork with great satisfaction.
He had modified Sweetdew City's defensive magic array. No one had stopped him; Hoffmann had even fully supported the effort.
Only after seeing Ambrose cast spells firsthand did Hoffmann believe the absurd claim that a magical automaton had become self-aware. No puppet could cast spells, not even the most expensive constructs from Alkhemia.
They could run on magitech reactors and fire miniature magic artillery, but all of that relied on pre-programmed arrays. They were operating strictly within their design.
Yet Ambrose had cast spell after spell before Hoffmann's eyes, with a level of mastery surpassing even that of legendary mages. Such an automaton could not possibly exist. If Alkhemia possessed such technology, it would have already unified the continent.
A self-aware construct, a dragon rider, a master spellcaster—to Hoffmann, Ambrose's existence could only be divine will, salvation sent to him when he most needed it.
So when Ambrose proposed repairing the defensive array, Hoffmann gave him his full support.
What followed left Hoffmann speechless. Ambrose berated the mages responsible for maintenance so thoroughly they were reduced to silence. The normally arrogant spellcasters couldn't argue back at all. Like chastened apprentices, they bowed their heads in shame.
Then Ambrose put them to work.
Repairing the entire defensive array in just a few hours was impossible. City-scale defensive arrays were designed to withstand legendary-level threats, and were expensive, precise, and incredibly complex. Once damaged, they were even harder to restore.
Even if Ambrose brought out the Golden Throne, it wouldn't be enough. So instead, he built a new array atop the old one.
He retained only the original power source and reshaped everything else to suit his own design.
After several hours of work, Ambrose activated the array. A hazy shimmer of light passed through the air, but nothing else seemed to happen.
Hoffmann didn't understand the point of all this until Ambrose instructed him to leave the city.
Only then did he realize its effect. Sweetdew City seemed to have vanished entirely.
In its place remained nothing but endless sand, glowing gold under the setting sun, indistinguishable from any other dune. Even Hoffmann, a dwarf raised in the desert, could not detect the slightest flaw in the illusion.
"I enhanced the illusion using the desert's natural mirage effect," Ambrose explained. "Outsiders will see a projection of Sweetdew City there in the distance, about three kilometers away."
He led Hoffmann to the projected location. There, a perfectly lifelike city stood before them.
Unless one walked into it, there was no way to tell it was fake.
"Incredible... I've never seen an illusion of this scale," Hoffmann said in awe.
Ambrose allowed himself a hint of pride. This kind of massive illusion had once been beyond him, but after mastering Leyla's True Illusion, his understanding of illusion magic had advanced by leaps and bounds.
By leveraging the desert environment and the city's magical reserves, he had created something extraordinary.
After his amazement faded, Hoffmann frowned slightly. "Do you intend to stage the battlefield within this illusionary city? Won't the Lyon forces immediately see through it upon starting their assault?"
A single arrow would reveal the truth. The Lyon forces were no fools.
Ambrose shook his head. "We don't need to fool the Lyon soldiers, just that old Silvermoon Knight. In the next battle, he will surely unleash another strike. None of us can withstand it head-on. We'll use this city to trick him into wasting it."
Everything in Ambrose's plan revolved around exhausting the Silvermoon Knight. Once the old man could no longer fight, Sweetdew City would be safe.
The fake city lay directly along their advance route. Though it was a few kilometers off from the original location, the desert made distances hard to judge.
Ambrose was gambling that the Lyon army would overlook the discrepancy. If his dice of fate hadn't been sealed by the Goddess of Fate herself, he could have turned this possibility into certainty. Now, though, he could only rely on luck.
He sighed. He'd ignored the goddess while things were running smoothly, but now that a crisis was looming, he couldn't help but seek her attention once more.
Hoffmann quickly grasped his plan. "In that case, it can't be an empty city. We need to station enough troops to make it look defensible, or the Silvermoon Knight won't bother using that attack, and the plan will fall apart."
Military tactics were not Ambrose's strength. He left the details to Hoffmann.
Soon, a unit of Dwarven Ironguards was dispatched to build fortifications outside the illusionary city.
Unlike the illusion, these defenses were very real. They served to transform the area into a complex, formidable position. Even a layman could see it would be difficult to assault.
With this added layer of fortifications, the chances of deceiving the Lyon army increased significantly.
By the time everything was ready, night had fallen. Without the sun, the desert lost its golden brilliance. It became muted and plain, as if a filter had been stripped away.
Lights gradually flickered to life in Sweetdew City, standing out starkly in the darkness.
No divination was needed. Ambrose was certain that the Lyon army would attack again tonight. They had bypassed the frontlines to strike at Sweetdew City. They could only afford to attack for a single day.
If things were to drag out, dwarf legions would converge on them from all sides.
Even the Silvermoon Knight could not bring ten thousand men out of the encirclement unscathed.
Tonight was their final chance.
Victory meant seizing Sweetdew City and choking the Dwarven Kingdom at its throat. Failure would require immediate retreat. They would have to flee as fast as possible before they were encircled.
Ambrose lay atop a sand dune outside the city, staring at the unnaturally large moon overhead. For some reason, he found himself thinking of Catherine, wondering where she had gone all day.
As the thought crossed his mind, he sensed someone approaching.
He sat up, and there she was.
Bathed in moonlight, the elven queen looked sacred and noble, even in her bulky clothing. She was truly worthy of being one of the gods' chosen. Sometimes, Ambrose thought to himself that, if Catherine simply spoke a few words between the two armies, she might be able to bring about peace on the spot.
Catherine walked over and sat beside him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"How did you find me?" Ambrose asked.
She pointed to the sky. High above, an eagle circled, so high it was almost impossible to notice.
"Rangers really are convenient," Ambrose remarked.
Catherine smiled. "Aren't you one too? Without the power I shared with you, how could you play the role of a dragon rider?"
"Fair point." He paused, then added, "So why come to me now? Didn't you decide not to get involved in the war? If the Lyon army sees you during the battle, it will become a political issue."
Catherine fell silent for a moment. Then she looked at him, her expression unusually serious.
"I know I shouldn't take part in this war," she said slowly. "But all of a sudden... I'm wondering whether the gods want me to help you."
