Horizon of War Series

Fight for Kapua

Nicopola Campaign

High in the sky, the troubled Nicopola province was serene beyond belief, cooled by the breeze that buoyed their ships silently across the night skies. Clad in a cashmere inner garment and a fur leather coat, Claire sat beside Sterling at the front of the cockpit, just behind the pilot. The two newlyweds had volunteered for this assignment, eager to elevate their standing within the House Lansius, viewing it as a pathway to secure rewards and rise in ranks.

During crossing the great plains, Claire and Sterling had alternated at the controls, accumulating tens of hours of experience. Sterling managed the daylight flying, while she took the nighttime shifts. Flying wasn't easy or intuitive, but they had mastered the basics; however, a soft landing still eluded them.

For that skill, they relied on the new pilot, who now steered the airship with cold precision, maintaining formation with the other three airships bearing down on Kapua. He handled the flight with such ease and gentleness, that flying seemed second nature to him.

Claire noticed the lead ship, commanded by Angelo, signaling with his hand and pointing toward a large, fortified town on the horizon, shrouded in darkness even to his trained mage eyes.

"Descending," the new pilot informed the passenger, concisely and to the point. The Pride of Korimor began to enter a shallow dive.

Amid the growing flutter of winds as they gained speed, Sterling asked Claire, "How far are we?"

"Not far. I can already see the city's outline emerging through the dusk," she remarked, preparing her drawing tools.

"Yes, I can," Claire replied as she began her sketch. Sterling moved the small lantern closer to illuminate the area, even though he knew his wife could see well in the dark.

Claire sketched a bird's-eye view of the city, marking walls and pathways.

The city wall, constructed from large stone blocks, was at least three stories high to deter direct ladder assaults and thick enough to resist siege engines. It was further reinforced by towers that now shimmered with the glow of myriad lanterns, a beacon in the enveloping darkness.

She drew a close-up of the gatehouse, emphasizing its double gates and the strategic courtyard intended to disorient attackers. These were the most heavily fortified sections of the wall.

She then detailed the inner fortifications. Like other cities, Kapua had an additional layer of defense surrounding its Keep, the seat of power and the private complex reserved for the local governor and his family. The Keep served as the final point of defense should any attackers breach its gates.

As she finished, Claire turned to face the two groups of men on her left and right, dressed in inconspicuous clothing that concealed their light armor.

"From where we're standing, this is Kapua City. It's almost the same as the briefing we got from Dawn's men," she praised their ally's intelligence as they eagerly began to study the freshly drawn map under the dim lantern light.

Afterward, the men exchanged glances and nodded one by one. "It is almost the same," the captain agreed. "Then, we can proceed as planned." He glanced toward the pilot at the front. "Is there anything else to add, Sir?"

"All good from my side," the pilot replied, his voice cold but confident.

The two men looked satisfied, and their captain began to review their plan step by step over the map one last time to refresh and ensure everyone was on the same page. This rigor was part of what the Lord had drilled into them. What made them truly special was their level of preparedness, their detailed plans, and their willingness to follow those plans while still retaining the ability to adapt amidst the chaos.

As Sir Harold often reminded them, while plans seldom worked out exactly as expected, preparing for the worst significantly improved their odds of surviving unexpected problems.

Ahead, the three airships began to enter a wide circle, holding a pattern above the city.

"Angelo has signaled good luck to us," the pilot noted without turning, before adding, "We are a small glass of sand away from the city; prepare the rope."

The SAR, formally named Search and Rescue, but internally known as the Special Arms Regiment, began to prepare their rope ladder. Although they were well-trained in rappelling and had even developed specialized gear for such operations, they chose to use the emergency rope ladder provided on the ship because it was readily available.

Soon, all their training would be put to the ultimate test, as the walls of Kapua would decide the fate of Lord Lansius' idea for a small team of elite forces.

***

Kapua

In the veiled darkness, the Pride of Korimor reduced its furnace to a minimum, shielded by a blackened metal cover. Despite its gargantuan size, its newly blackened hull absorbed light, rendering it nearly invisible as it glided silently over the fortified city of Kapua, barely making a sound against the cool winds.

Hovering over the tower closest to the west gatehouse, just as Claire had informed, they spotted the two men on sentry duty atop the open tower. One was fast asleep, his back against the parapet wall, while the other kept watch, crossbow in hand with a bronze lantern nearby.

There was nobody else in their close vicinity.

In the silence, the first man sensed something amiss. While he couldn't see it, he felt the presence of an unknown threat; yet, he did not expect an intrusion from above.

Without wasting time, the two groups slowly lowered the rope ladder with a man secured to it. The sound alerted the first guard, who glanced left and right and was about to wake his companion when bolts simultaneously struck him in the back and shoulder—fired by two from the airship. The last man on the end of the rope ladder delivered the final shot, striking just below the neck.

The guard collapsed in shock, and the team members quickly descended to silence him. Meanwhile, the second guard remained asleep, the lingering scent of wine explaining his unresponsiveness.

Under the watchful eye of their fellow on board the airship, the two swiftly secured the sleeping guard, gagging and tying him. Then, one by one, they began to rope dawn.

"Leave him," the captain whispered as they gathered atop the tower. "Others will interrogate him."

Soon after, the pilot and the squire descended and began interrogating the bewildered, drunken guard.

The two groups proceeded stealthily despite the growing tension in their veins. Their training proved fruitful as they maintained calm, which allowed them to carefully survey the surroundings, listening for any signs of discovery. There were none, so they quietly descended through a trap door. Fortune favored them, as the upper tower was deserted. Guided only by a flickering lantern that cast long shadows, they climbed down further.

After noticing lights downstairs and hearing steady snoring, the point man risked a peek.

"I saw four. Two on the left, one on the right, another at the far end," he reported in a whisper.

"All asleep?" the captain asked.

He nodded. The captain then whispered to the team, "Knives."

With their crossbows slung across their backs, they moved swiftly into the tower interior and neutralized the threat. Their training enabled them to deliver a quick, painless end to their victims.

Suddenly, without warning, the door leading to the battlements swung open, and a young man froze in place, his hand clutching a bronze lantern. He turned, his mouth agape, just as three bolts struck his torso, sending him tumbling to the side. His lantern clattered to the ground, rolling and ringing sharply.

"Get him," the captain ordered, as he and another team member rushed to drag the young man inside, quickly shutting the door behind them.

The noise had attracted attention. "What's that noise?" a voice called from below. "Boy...?" it echoed again, much louder.

Turning to his team, the captain motioned for them to hide. Footsteps were heard, and then a man dressed in gaudy clothing and ringmail ascended to the chamber. From his attire, it was clear he was a mercenary, and from the expression on his face, he had noticed the smell of blood and reached for his sword.

Three bolts struck the man in quick succession; yet, he staggered but did not fall. "Intrud—"

His voice was abruptly cut off as the point man lunged from the shadows, tackling the mercenary to the floor and clamping a gloved hand over his mouth. His attempts to wrestle were nullified as he was firmly pinned down, his shouts muffled. Gasping for breath, his last mumbled word, "Intru..." trailed off as he finally lost consciousness.

Everyone held their breath, listening intently for any movement. The captain, with his crossbow primed on the stone stairway, approached. Hearing nothing, he turned to the second team. "We'll move ahead. Good hunting," he said, his nervousness barely concealed.

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His lieutenant nodded and led his team to stalk the battlements outside, allowing some time as the first team descended to the ground level and approached the Keep from below. Their goal was closer, just a short distance away through the battlements, albeit similarly risky as they would force their way to enter.

The first team reached the ground level, relieved to find it quiet. They stealthily neutralized another sleeping guard and discovered a small sleeping quarter. Deciding to secure it, they employed their special key tool to lock and break the mechanism, effectively locking the occupant inside. After seizing some drink to quench their thirst, they headed toward the keep.

This time, they had their crossbows lowered and walked at a normal pace, hoping to go unnoticed. They had memorized the route and easily located the large building complex. They noticed feeble lights emitting here and there, sleepy guards standing at their posts, and observed that the main gate was firmly shut.

"Climb?" one of the group asked.

"Let’s try to find another entrance before trying that," the captain decided.

Under the cover of darkness, they explored but found the servant's entrance also securely shut.

"Let me give it a try," a Nicopolan among them suggested suavely, handing his crossbow to a teammate. He walked toward the servant's entrance and knocked softly several times, whispering, "It’s me."

After a few attempts, an irritated voice came from inside, "Who is it?"

"I’m here to take the wenches home."

"Wenches? The boss’?"

"I gave my assurance that my lips are sealed," he replied with ease and confidence, almost playfully.

The door slid open, revealing an old man in a coarse gray robe, who scanned the Nicopolan with suspicion. "I don’t know you."

"It’s best to say you never see me," he replied with a charming smile, matching the old man’s thick Nicopolan accent. And instead of forcing entry, he deftly offered three copper coins. "The competition is hard and I don’t want any trouble."

The old man’s demeanor briefly brightened, "I think you can spare some more," his greed apparent.

"I have such intentions, once my ladies are safely escorted out."

Without hesitation, the old man nodded and said, "Then I’ll have you wait a little."

"May I come inside?" he replied softly. "I don’t want the guard to see me and take my coins."

Taking another look at him, the old man in the robe sighed. "Can't help it. Locals like us should have each other's backs; I know just how much of bastards these out-of-province men can be." The door then swung fully open.

The Nicopolan went inside but not before motioned for his team to follow. The captain and the other two quickly approached the door, stopping only to listen, then quietly entered and closed the door behind them, securing it with a thick wooden bar.

"Break the lock," the captain whispered. They had no intention of exiting through that door.

Steeling their resolve, they fully loaded the rigid canvas-resin magazine of their X-bow with bolts, closing it with a simple spring to ensure proper feeding. With steady hands and sharp eyes, they entered the Kapua's seat of power.

***

Kapua

An hour passed quickly for the 1st SAR group as they secured most of the Keep through stealthy eliminations and sealing off doors. Their expertise with special tool to lock and jam the locking mechanisms provided a significant advantage, allowing them to avoid clearing every chamber and confronting all of the Keep's occupants.

The last stage of the fight escalated into hand-to-hand combat as the mercenaries became alert. The Korelian group prevailed through their superior weaponry and training, emerging nearly unscathed.

Breathing heavily with a bloodied blade in hand, the captain secured the city's leader, a Samaritan horse breeder turned mercenary, along with one of his top lieutenants. The leader hurled curses and insults until they tied and gagged him, then locked them both in a separate chamber.

The four-man team was exhausted but their mission was a success. They had paralyzed the city's command center and just needed to hold out until Dawn's men could enter the city.

However, the mission was far from smooth. Before the final stage of the fight, the captain had his X-bow rendered useless; its delicate feeding mechanism jammed completely when a guard struck him from the side, forcing him to use it to block the attack until his men could assist him. He then resorted to using his dagger and a captured sword to continue the mission. Meanwhile, another team member slipped on the stone staircase, twisting an ankle but pressing on with a slight limp.

Their point man also sustained injuries when an alert guard thrust a spear that struck his forearm. Now, his comrade carefully cleaned the wound and fashioned a bandage from torn linen.

But they also received some unexpected assistance. The man in the gray robe was a local who had served the original House that perished in last year's clashes. After some persuasion about the fate of the city, he pledged his support and began actively gathering like-minded servants.

Their greatest help came when they secured the dungeon, eliminating three guards and freeing more than twenty prisoners. Although these individuals appeared bearded, haggard, and decrepit, among them were renowned knights and famous fighters held for ransom. After a brief exchange, they eagerly offered their help, including guildsmen who had never before wielded weapons.

Time was pressing. They heard slams on the main door as suspicious mercenaries demanded entry.

"A few likely jumped down from their posts," the Nicopolan member suggested.

"Can't we get the leader to tell them to back down?" the point man asked.

"Better not. He'll sell us out," the old man in the robe warned.

The captain raised his brow. "He doesn't value his life?"

"He has a crooked way of thinking. He'd rather die than give us the satisfaction of controlling him," the old man explained.

The captain swept his gaze across the hall, observing the other servants' agreeing nods. He took a long breath, recalling what Lord Lansius had told him about the importance of sharing a common goal so his men would fight with tenacity, and decided to address them.

"Listen up," the Korelian-born captain began, gathering them around. "My order is to hold this Keep to buy time so our men can enter and liberate the city," he explained. "Things will be rough, but I want to assure you that our troops are on their way, and we also have support from the skies ready to assist us."

Everyone began to murmur in excitement, curious about the support.

"So, it is a vessel, not a monster," one of the knights murmured with unveiled excitement, while the guildsmen looked curious.

The captain gave a confident smile before continuing, "Now, I want you to look everywhere for weapons, food, water, or anything we can use to defend this place in case of a breach. We need to build barricades and secure every possible entry point that the mercenaries might use."

"Certainly, we'll keep a record of this and will report back to our Lord. They'll be thrilled and most likely to reward any meritorious service," the Nicopolan added, lending his charisma to get things moving.

For those in the Keep, things were going well. Little did they know of the chaos that was beginning to unfold at the west gatehouse.

...

After a bloody fight that left no fewer than twenty men dead, the 2nd group managed to secure the west gatehouse, only to discover the gate mechanism was broken. A captured servant confirmed their worst fears: the gate had been broken in the previous year's fight, and there were no talents to fix it.

The lieutenant and his men exchanged tense glances.

"Your command?" one asked courageously, a grin on his lips but his voice betrayed his weariness.

"Say your command," one remarked courageously, his grin tinged with nerves.

"Let's retake the south gatehouse," the lieutenant replied firmly, despite knowing that Kapua's defenses were likely alerted by now.

"Embrace the suck," muttered another, echoing a phrase he had learned from his mentors, possibly even from Lord Lansius himself. He promptly checked his gear and reported, "Ready and willing."

"Korelians, follow me," the lieutenant ordered after ensuring his gear was in order, taking the point. He opened the door and quickly saw that the tower to the south gate was thoroughly manned, with crossbowmen ready to unleash their barrage.

"That's not going to work," one commented and the lieutenant agreed.

"Lieutenant," another called from his position at the back window. "A dozen has climbed the stairs from the other tower, heading our way."

The lieutenant exhaled deeply, took out two torch-like objects, and headed toward the fireplace. He lit their ends and, once they began to burn, returned to the door. He glanced out one last time to confirm they were burning, then threw them hard toward the opposing tower.

The objects glowed increasingly brighter, bathing the area in a bright red light for several moments before fading.

The mercenaries on the opposing tower showed slight panic but eventually cheered and began to taunt them. However, the SAR 2nd group merely exchanged grins, knowing what was to come, and shut the door tight.

Within minutes a distinct sound of breaking clay confounded the defenders, as their tower had no clay roof. Another shattering sound followed, and then their tower began to glow.

"Fire, fire!" their men outside warned.

"It’s the bat!" another shouted in sheer panic.

As warned, more burning amphorae rained down from Dawn's three airships circling above. The defenders wisely deserted the tower as it was quickly engulfed in flames, which they knew would be hard to extinguish even with water.

Meanwhile, the second team, capitalizing on the fact that the mercenaries were still in panic, slipped through the base of the tower, which was somehow left unguarded, possibly because the key to the door was with one of the officers they had subdued earlier.

Through the unguarded door, they advanced toward the south gate, passing through the now-awakened city. Shouts rose everywhere, like a chaotic storm. Meanwhile, behind them, the tower continued to receive fiery bombardment, setting it ablaze.

The four-man squad rushed across the cobbled road with swift determination. Surprisingly, even when they encountered a confused group of defenders, they managed to slip by simply by pointing at the burning tower and feigning panic, shouting, "It’s burning, it’s burning!"

"The bat is upon us!" With just that ruse, they went undetected, which brought nervous chuckles as they picked up their pace.

After covering quite a distance, they finally reached the south gate. They encountered a lone young guard outside, who was trying to watch the burning spectacle, and quickly rushed him and brought him inside, still confused and mistakenly thinking they were merely local drunkards.

Inside, they found three men barely awake, drew their X-bow against them who showed complete horror, but before releasing the deadly projectiles, the men inside quickly raised their hands and said in trembling voices, "Don’t, don’t. We’re not them. We’re just commoners pressed into guard duty."

The lieutenant lowered his aim, noticing how thin and haggard these men looked, even the young guard who had turned pale and offered no resistance.

"He’s right," another added, "Not many of them in here. This gate only leads to farms."

"Then where are they?"

"Drunk, sleeping on the upper level."

The lieutenant found it hard to believe. "The whole city is in chaos, and they’re still asleep?"

"If you saw how much they drink, you wouldn’t question it," another quipped, breaking the tension.

The lieutenant motioned his men to barricade the door and then quietly tied the men's hands and legs to the chairs, telling them to keep quiet as they stealthily climbed upstairs.

***

Pride of Korimor

After knocking out the drunkard, Sterling and the pilot returned to the airship. They soon became airborne again and observed the unfolding events from a safe altitude. They saw how the fight unfolded, how the second group called for assistance, and how the tower was bombarded until it resembled a giant pyre burning brightly against the night sky.

"It’s a bit overkill," Sterling commented.

The pilot merely nodded, his face always devoid of emotion, his predatory gaze fixed on the city beneath them. After a long while, however, a smile formed on his lips.

His expression did not escape Claire, who was intrigued, especially since the city was still under their control. "May I ask what's the reason for your smile, Sir?" she dared to ask.

The pilot turned to her and pointed toward the south gate. “They’ve successfully breached it,” he explained. “I am gratified that my intervention was not required, as per my orders.”

The young couple exchanged glances; as Korelians, they felt a swell of pride at the praise.

“This SAR is commendable. I am proud to be part of this,” the pilot added.

His words prompted Sterking to ask, “What do you think of them compared to your Black Knights?”

The pilot’s smile thinned. "Let’s not dabble in possibilities. When we return, I shall petition for a friendly sparring. Then we’ll know who’s superior."

Sterling swallowed dryly, not realizing his comment would elicit such a serious reaction.

Seeing the tension, Claire tried to lighten the mood, "Sir, imagine if we had more airships. The Black Knights could storm into battle just like this."

"Indeed," Sir Morton declared, "I will dedicate myself to ensuring the Shogunate expands our airship fleet. The Black Knights will revel in this new kind of warfare—no more dealing with distasteful sieges. We’ll just land on their castles and bring the fight to their face," his voice unusually charged with emotion as his predatory gaze sharpened.

***

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