Lord Summoner's Freedom Philosophy: Grimoire of Love
Chapter 356: The Start of The Siege

Chapter 356: The Start of The Siege

The march toward Hektor’s stronghold was filled with a heavy, quiet intensity. Every step felt like a drumbeat of war, each soldier’s footfall echoing in the stillness of the night. Lyan led the way, his black cloak billowing in the wind, the weight of the coming battle resting heavily on his shoulders but not slowing his stride. Behind him, the Valkyries and his army followed in formation, their movements synchronized, their faces hardened with the knowledge of what was to come.

The stronghold loomed larger as they drew closer, its stone walls casting long, dark shadows over the land. Torches flickered along the battlements, and the faint silhouette of soldiers could be seen manning the walls. But there was no confidence in their movements, no air of defiance. They were merely bodies stationed there out of duty, a final, desperate attempt to protect what was already lost.

Lyan’s sharp eyes scanned the stronghold, his mind already working through the steps needed to breach its defenses. Hektor had retreated there with what little remained of his forces, but it wouldn’t be enough to hold back Lyan’s army. The outcome was inevitable. The only question was how long Hektor could delay his fate.

Beside him, Wilhelmina walked with a quiet grace, her staff resting lightly against her shoulder. Her expression was thoughtful, her sharp mind calculating the strategic advantage they held. "It won’t take much to bring those walls down," she said, her voice low but confident. "We can surround the stronghold and attack from multiple angles. Hektor’s men won’t know where to focus their defenses."

Lyan nodded, his gaze never leaving the looming fortress. "We’ll keep them distracted at the front gates while the Valkyries and I take the side entrances. There are weaknesses in the architecture that we can exploit."

Alice, who had been walking on the other side of Lyan, grinned at the thought of another battle. Her sword rested casually at her side, though her fingers drummed lightly on the hilt in anticipation. "You lead, we follow," she said with a smirk. "I’m just eager to see that coward Hektor pay for abandoning his son."

Emilia, her greatsword strapped across her back, rolled her shoulders as if preparing for the inevitable clash. "He’ll regret every decision he made leading up to this."

Raine and Ravia, the sisters who had fought with Lyan through countless skirmishes, moved with their usual lightness, their sharp eyes already searching for potential targets among the guards patrolling the walls. They exchanged a look, wordlessly communicating their readiness for the fight ahead.

Josephine, who had been unusually quiet since Lucan’s death, broke her silence as they neared the stronghold. "Do you think he’ll try to surrender?" she asked, her voice laced with disgust at the mere thought.

Lyan shook his head. "Hektor is too proud for that. Even now, after abandoning his son and running from the battlefield, he’ll believe he can somehow survive this. He’ll try to bargain, maybe even beg for mercy. But surrender? No. He’ll never admit defeat until he’s on his knees, with no other choice."

"And we won’t give him that choice," Wilhelmina added, her voice cold. "He doesn’t deserve it."

The stronghold’s gates came into view, massive wooden doors reinforced with iron, but worn from years of neglect. Lyan could see the soldiers standing guard, their faces pale and anxious, shifting nervously as they watched his army approach. They were outnumbered, outmatched, and they knew it.

Lyan raised his hand, signaling his army to halt. The soldiers behind him stopped in perfect unison, their armor clinking softly as they waited for his next command. The air was thick with tension, the silence before the storm.

Lyan stepped forward, his eyes fixed on the gates. "Hektor!" he called out, his voice booming across the open field. "You’ve run far enough. This ends tonight."

For a moment, there was no response, only the crackling of the torches and the distant shuffle of feet on the battlements. Then, slowly, the gates creaked open, and a lone figure stepped out.

It was one of Hektor’s commanders, an older man with a weathered face and a stooped posture. He approached cautiously, his eyes darting between Lyan’s forces and the stronghold behind him. He stopped several paces away, holding up a hand in what seemed to be a gesture of peace.

"Lord Lyan," the commander began, his voice shaking slightly. "I’ve been sent to negotiate terms."

Lyan’s expression remained cold, his gaze unwavering. "There are no terms. Only surrender or death."

The commander hesitated, his brow furrowing. "Lord Hektor... he wishes to discuss—"

"I’m not interested in Hektor’s wishes," Lyan cut him off, his tone as sharp as the blade at his side. "He had his chance to negotiate, and he threw it away the moment he abandoned his son on the battlefield."

The commander swallowed hard, glancing nervously back at the stronghold. "Please, Lord Lyan. The men inside... they’re tired, wounded. We can’t continue this fight."

Lyan’s eyes narrowed. "Then lay down your weapons and walk away. If Hektor’s men choose to surrender, they’ll be spared. But Hektor himself will answer for his crimes."

The commander’s face fell, the weight of the situation sinking in. He nodded slowly, his shoulders sagging with defeat. "I’ll tell them."

As the commander turned to leave, Lyan’s voice rang out once more, stopping him in his tracks. "Tell Hektor this: There will be no mercy for him. He’s already chosen his fate."

The commander didn’t respond, only quickened his pace as he hurried back toward the gates. As he disappeared inside, the gates slowly creaked shut once more, leaving Lyan and his army standing in the shadow of the stronghold.

Wilhelmina’s eyes flicked to Lyan. "Do you think they’ll surrender?"

"They’ll have no choice," Lyan said calmly. "But Hektor... he won’t give in until he’s forced to."

Alice rolled her shoulders, eager to start the fight. "Then let’s force him."

Lyan nodded, his eyes narrowing as he turned back to his army. "Prepare the siege tools. Surround the stronghold. We’ll attack from all sides."

The soldiers moved swiftly, setting up siege weapons and forming ranks around the stronghold. The air was filled with the clanking of metal and the low murmur of voices as preparations for the assault were made.

As Lyan watched his army take position, his mind was already ahead, inside the stronghold, where Hektor waited. The man who had started this war, who had betrayed his own son and his own people, was cowering behind those stone walls. But not for long.

Lyan could feel the weight of the final battle approaching. It was almost over, and when it was, Hektor’s reign of cowardice and cruelty would end. For good.

The stronghold loomed above them, its dark walls standing tall against the night sky, but Lyan’s eyes were steady, his resolve unshaken. He had come too far to turn back now.

"Tonight," he said quietly, more to himself than to anyone else, "we finish this."

And with that, the final march toward Hektor’s stronghold began.

The soldiers moved like a well-oiled machine, the clank of armor and the creak of siege tools filling the tense air. Lyan stood at the forefront, his gaze never leaving the dark, towering walls of Hektor’s stronghold. His mind was sharp, his focus unyielding. The march toward the end had begun, and nothing would stop it now.

As the siege weapons were set into place—catapults, battering rams, and ballistae—Wilhelmina approached Lyan, her eyes gleaming with determination. "We’ve surrounded the stronghold. The men are ready."

Lyan gave a small nod, his eyes still fixed on the fortress. "Good. We’ll give them a moment to surrender, but not a second longer. If they don’t, we begin the assault."

Alice, always itching for the fight, swung her sword with an eager grin. "I hope they don’t surrender. I’ve been waiting for this."

Emilia, standing nearby with her greatsword resting on her shoulder, chuckled. "They’ll hold out for as long as they can, but they know it’s over. They’re just delaying the inevitable."

Lyan’s eyes narrowed, his patience already thinning. Hektor had lost the right to delay anything. The man had dragged this war out long enough—abandoning his son, fleeing the battlefield, and cowering behind these walls. There was no honor in him, no dignity left to salvage.

Raine and Ravia stood off to the side, their bows at the ready, scanning the battlements for any signs of movement. The air around them was thick with tension, as if the very night was holding its breath, waiting for the moment to explode into chaos.

Josephine, her staff glowing faintly, approached Lyan. Her face was set in a cold, determined mask. "Hektor thinks he can wait us out. But he’s forgotten that we are relentless."

Lyan’s lips curled into a faint, grim smile. "He’ll remember soon enough."

As the final preparations were made, Lyan turned to his assembled forces. His voice was steady, carrying over the soldiers and filling the air with a sense of purpose. "Tonight, we end this. No mercy for Hektor. But any man who surrenders will be spared. This is their last chance."

The soldiers, a mix of hardened warriors and newly trained men, stood at attention, their faces set with grim resolve. They had fought too hard, bled too much, to falter now. They knew what this battle meant—not just for them, but for everyone who had suffered under Hektor’s tyranny.

The last flicker of resistance would soon be snuffed out. The final act of this long, bloody war was upon them.

Lyan raised his hand, signaling for the battering ram to approach the gates. His gaze remained fixed on the fortress, his eyes gleaming with cold, unyielding resolve.

"Hektor," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "your time is up."

The battering ram swung forward, crashing into the gates with a deafening boom. The siege had begun.