Descendants of the False Gods

Chapter 6: The Fall of Star-Moon City (3)

The third war chariot was now within reach of the city gate, but repeated collisions had drained it of momentum.

The warriors on all three chariots remained largely unharmed and still capable of fighting. They wielded their weapons fiercely, striking down the bull soldiers and instilling fear among them, forcing some to flee.

Inside the city gate, the black bull soldiers who had initially been driven out now regrouped and charged back in. The warriors of Star-Moon City met them head-on—slashing down close-range foes with their blades, hurling fire-oil bombs at those farther away, and shooting their crossbows to eliminate threats to their comrades.

The squad captain knew they could not hold off the overwhelming number of enemies for long. Without hesitation, he grabbed a torch from the war chariot and flung it into the passenger cabin of the third chariot closest to the gate.

Dong Lei, the driver of the third chariot, noticed the torch land inside but saw no immediate reaction. Wielding his weapons in both hands, he swiftly struck out on either side, cutting down enemies before retreating into the cabin.

The torch had indeed ignited the fire-oil bombs inside a crate, but only the cloth wicks had caught fire—the glass bottles remained intact, preventing a full blaze.

The bull soldiers did not relent in their assault. Seeing Dong Lei still on the chariot, they pursued him aggressively. As he took another glance at the burning crate, a heavy war hammer came crashing down toward him from behind. He dodged sideways just in time, causing the hammer to strike the wooden crate instead, splitting it open.

The crate contained only a few more boxes of fire-oil bombs. If the bottles shattered, the flammable liquid inside would ignite instantly, or worse, explode.

There was no way for Dong Lei to escape now. He continued to dodge within the confined space near the burning crate. However, not all of the bull soldiers’ attacks struck the wooden crates.

Time was running out. Determined, Dong Lei evaded another attack before hurling his straight blade. Though it missed its intended target, it struck and killed another black bull soldier outside the chariot.

The hammer-wielding bull soldier froze momentarily. In that brief lapse, Dong Lei seized the moment—gripping the crate with both hands, he forcefully overturned it. The fragile bottles inside shattered upon impact.

Boom!

Flames instantly engulfed the entire war chariot. Dong Lei, now ablaze, used the last of his strength to overturn another crate. This time, the crate tumbled outside the chariot, setting the entire gateway ablaze. Overwhelmed by the inferno, Dong Lei collapsed into the flames.

The warhorses, set alight, went mad, attempting to break free and escape the searing agony. Yet, they were still harnessed to the chariot, which had wedged itself against the inner wall of the city gate. The horses could only struggle a few more meters before being consumed by the raging fire.

More bull soldiers perished or suffered severe burns. The survivors frantically pushed and shoved, desperate to flee the inferno.

At that moment, the remaining two crates of fire-oil bombs inside the chariot overheated and detonated. The structure of the gateway amplified the explosion, sending shockwaves in both directions. The sheer force hurled most of the bull soldiers out of the gate.

Now, the gateway was nearly devoid of life, replaced by a roaring sea of fire. The squad captain, crouched in the narrow space between the chariot and the inner wall, saw a glimmer of hope. This was the moment he had fought for all day.

To him, the enemies had been expelled, and the gateway lay open. If he could close the gates, Star-Moon City could be saved. The raging flames could not extinguish his resolve. He charged toward the gate, heedless of his burning body.

The searing pain meant nothing to him; only the joy of reaching the gate filled his mind.

The massive gates had been thrown wide open, pressed against the inner walls. Normally, it took two or three men to close them. Now, he stood alone—weak, wounded—but he had to act before the flames subsided.

The hardest part was the initial movement. Standing amidst the fire, he exerted every ounce of strength to pull the gates shut. Muttering to himself, he whispered, “Not yet… just a little more… once this is done, I can finally rest—rest for as long as I want.” The gate began to move.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

A series of deafening blasts rang out. The squad captain no longer felt pain—only the overwhelming force of an impact. Several iron crossbow bolts, devoid of fletching, had pierced his body. His vision dimmed. He knew his time was up. As he fell, his gaze drifted beyond the gate, catching glimpses of shadowy figures before his eyes finally closed forever.

His comrades, rushing to aid him, were also struck down. With no one left to control it, the gate remained open. Once the fire subsided, Star-Moon City would lose its last defense.

On the bridge outside the city stood heavily armored warriors clad in golden metal plates, mounted on lion-tiger beasts similarly armored. The beasts bore saddle racks, atop which rested rectangular metal devices.

These were gunpowder crossbows, modified from the dwarven firearms. The initial designs were failures due to inferior craftsmanship, but through repeated improvements, they had been refined into their current form.

Being made entirely of metal, they were too heavy to wield by hand and had to be mounted onto carriers. Though cumbersome, their power remained formidable.

This was the feared Heavy Fire Crossbow Lion-Tiger Army of the Southern Beast Tribe. Two thousand riders now waited on the bridge, watching the flames within the gateway. Once the fire subsided to a manageable level, they would launch the second wave of the assault.

Inside Star-Moon City, civilians and soldiers alike could only see the raging inferno. Whether black bull soldiers or defenders of Star-Moon City, neither could approach the gateway. Both sides held onto hope—each praying that the battle would turn in their favor. But war would not wait.

The bull soldiers beneath the city walls were now at a disadvantage. The defenders of Star-Moon City had begun rallying forces to retake the walls. If they could eliminate the enemy archers above, they would seize a massive advantage—gaining a clear view of the battlefield and controlling the fight from above.

The walls and siege crossbows had been strategically positioned through meticulous planning. Though the defenders on the walls were few, attacking uphill was always challenging. Three waves of assault, each hundreds strong, had already been repelled. A new approach was needed.

After several failed assaults, only about five to six hundred bull soldiers remained east of the gateway. However, their advance was also hindered.

The black bull commander stood on the eastern flank, accompanied by two hundred elite guards. Unlike ordinary bull soldiers who relied on shields for defense, these warriors wore thick, full-body iron armor and wielded massive double-handed battle axes—larger than single-handed axes but shorter than poleaxes. Their sheer strength made their swings devastating. No weapon could withstand their attacks, and even if arrows managed to pierce their armor, they were rarely fatal.

Veteran fighters speculated that these elites had undergone rigorous combat training. Blending into the shielded ranks, their presence significantly increased the defenders’ casualties.

Star-Moon City had fewer than two thousand combatants left. The relentless battle for the gate had depleted their ranks, leaving fewer than five hundred men, all deployed at the eastern wall and siege ramp. The remainder, mostly women, had joined the fight without hesitation.

These women, once archers, had now taken up swords. Their eyes burned with fury, their lack of battlefield experience compensated by heightened focus and caution. So engrossed were they in the fight that they failed to notice the dwindling flames at the gateway.

As they fought desperately, figures began emerging from the dying fire. An enemy force had entered the gateway.

The Lion-Tiger Army, seeing that the oil fires were slow to burn out, had the bull soldiers fetch water from Star-Moon Lake to extinguish the flames. The explosion risk was ignored—getting inside was the priority.

As the fires diminished, the Lion-Tiger Army advanced methodically, securing the gateway. Star-Moon City’s fate now hung by a thread.