Industrial Cthulhu, starting from the island lord

Chapter 480 We Never Gave Up
"Gwen, we held on."

Several soldiers lay on the ground, covered in dust and dirt, too weak to move, but smiles appeared on their faces.

Gwen leaned on her longsword, standing atop the castle wall and looking down.

The allied forces of the three dukes have retreated, leaving behind a field of corpses and a fortress riddled with holes.

How many attacks have we launched this month? Seven? Ten?

Gwen doesn't remember.

Numbly directing her subordinates to treat the wounded and gather supplies, Gwen's heart sank deeper and deeper.

"Sister Gwen, will we stay here forever?"

Gwen turned around and looked down at the boy standing in front of her.

In six months, he grew a bit more, but he became shorter.

Grisha shifted his cane; his left trouser leg was empty, but his right foot made a crisp sound when it hit the ground.

That was left behind four months ago when the Allied forces attacked. The Allied forces even breached the outer walls, but the resistance fighters held the castle until nightfall, when they managed to retake the outer city under cover of darkness.

Grisha shot down three enemies with his bow and arrow, but was overtaken by a fourth. With a single slash, the fourth enemy shrunk his body.

Gwen bandaged his wounds and made him a prosthetic limb out of wood. Grisha liked it very much, but Gwen was heartbroken.

Gwen tried to squat down, but she had been standing on the city wall for too long today and her legs were too weak, so she collapsed to the ground.

The girl didn't care; she was covered in dust and dried blood, and it was hard to say whether she or the ground was dirtier.

"Grisha, are you homesick?"

The boy shook his head: "I lost my home a long time ago, and I can't go back to Baiya either. Wherever the resistance goes, I will go."

But the resistance fighters could go nowhere.

Gwen gave a wry smile, shook her head, and didn't say what was on her mind.

In the past six months, the resistance forces have experienced too many battles.

Count Bazel was severely weakened in the battle of the woodlands, and the other three covetous dukes immediately formed a reinforcement army, ostensibly to help Bazel eliminate the resistance, but in reality to seize his territory.

The Allied forces were focused on other territories in Bazel and were not in a hurry to capture Sladedinburgh; they were just putting on a show of fighting.

What appears to be a mere show of force to the Allied forces is something the resistance fighters must fight tooth and nail to hold onto.

If the three dukes' allied forces hadn't been holding back, and even deliberately letting things go, this fortress would have been razed to the ground long ago.

Gwen's gaze passed over Grisha, looking through the gap in the battlements towards the Allied forces' encampment outside the castle.

One after another, the military camps were densely packed, each with a different family crest hanging above them. Although the three sides were nominally an allied force, they were clearly divided into distinct groups.

Gwen knew that these soldiers were not on guard against them. The North was in complete chaos, with battlefields everywhere, and the entrances to these military camps did not even face this direction.

But for Sladeington, this remains an insurmountable barrier.

The resistance fighters were trapped in the castle and could not go anywhere.

Taking a deep breath and forcibly suppressing the wavering in her heart, Gwen stood up.

We can't rest now.

He directed the soldiers to move the rocks, rescue the wounded who were trapped, and tally the number of dead soldiers, damaged weapons, and consumed ammunition.

From the city wall to its base, and then to the military camp, Gwen was so busy she was almost delirious, her senses becoming hazy.

"Gwen, Gwen?"

After being called several times, Gwen finally came to her senses: "I'm fine, Grisha."

She turned her head and saw that she had mistaken the person for someone else. Standing in front of her was not the stubborn boy, but another little girl.

She held a flatbread in both hands and looked up timidly.

Gwen paused for a moment, took the biscuit, and reached out to pat the little girl's head, but the little girl had already turned and run away, hiding behind an old woman and peeking over.

Gwen looked down at herself, her clothes filthy and stained with blood, gave a self-deprecating laugh, and put the biscuit in her mouth to eat it in big bites.

"Lady Gwen, please don't mind her, she's always been shy." The old woman smiled and opened the wooden lunchbox, inside which was hot soup with vegetable leaves floating on top.

"Just call me Gwen. These past six months haven't been easy for you either."

"What do you mean by easy or difficult? We worked so hard to grow a season of wheat, but when the lord's tax collector came, we had nothing left. Even though we grew a lot of grain, we still starved to death."

“But we also took a lot of food, and many of the young men who joined the resistance were left behind on the battlefield.” Gwen’s voice lowered, and the biscuit in her mouth became increasingly dry, making it impossible for her to swallow.

The mother-in-law shook her head.

“There will always be times when we go hungry and there is not enough food. Don’t you go hungry with us? Besides, it is the bandits who are preventing us from eating, not your resistance army.”

The little girl behind the grandmother suddenly poked her head out: "Sister Gwen, can we beat them?"

Gwen gulped down a mouthful of hot soup, swallowed the food in her mouth, stuffed the remaining half of the cake into her clothes, wiped her hands with a leaf, found a rock to sit on, but hesitated to say anything definite.

Finally, she closed her eyes and said with a hint of self-abandonment.

"If...if there is a miracle."

Suddenly, she opened her eyes with some confusion, and a warm little hand was placed on her head, gently comforting her.

When the little girl saw Gwen open her eyes, she was startled and shrank back inside.

The old woman chuckled, her laughter like a leaky bellows: "Hehe, Lady Gwen, I'm lucky. I've lived for many years. I've seen meteorites fall from the sky into seas of fire, I've seen empires rise and fall, I've seen the White Disaster devour entire kingdoms, and I've seen the sea dry up and then fill up again. Miracles are unpredictable."

“Yes, who knows, Gwen,” the little girl said earnestly, peeking out as well.

"Miracle."

Gwen gripped the hilt of her sword and looked around.

The craftsmen directed the townspeople to move stones to fill the gaps in the outer wall, the doctor who was caring for the wounded changed the bandages for the injured, the young man held the hand of his deceased friend and turned to walk towards the recruitment tent, and the cook who was missing an eye happily carried hot porridge on his back.

Outside, there were powerful enemies who could easily crush them, but inside the castle, the people's eyes were still full of hope.

They were the resistance fighters, and they never gave up the fight.

Gwen took a deep breath and stood up.

The hot soup she had just drunk warmed her up, and her fear and confusion dissipated. After moving her hands and feet, she was once again the fearless girl she always was.

"Boss! Gwen! Lady Gwen, come up here quickly!" Suddenly, a jumble of shouts came from the city wall.

"They've withdrawn their troops!"

(End of this chapter)