Slime True Immortal
Chapter 318: Heroes Are Never Here
Louisa looked up at the morning sun rising from the thinning mist. Its golden rays began to pierce through the fog, falling upon the city walls of Chester Fortress.
It meant the time for the attack was near.
She turned to Alice and Big Brother Slime beside her.
"The two of you, Knights, the time has come. Please accompany me in breaking through this final obstacle on our southern expedition."
"With utmost pleasure, Your Highness." Alice placed her right hand over her chest, performing a Knight's Salute.
Big Brother Slime drew his short sword, pointed its tip towards the direction of Ironwall Pass, gave a resonant cry in response, and mounted a tamed steelback beetle.
The beetle let out a submissive hiss, turned around, and moved its heavy steel limbs to follow Louisa and Alice.
North wall, Chester Fortress.
A low, distant horn sound from within the thin mist ahead raised the alertness of the defending soldiers on the wall.
A Knight Commander with a red feather adorning his helmet quickly walked behind a battlement, squinting his eyes to peer deep into the misty depths.
He waved his hand. "Ballistae ready! Illumination arrows, three-shot volley! Light up that mist for me!"
The soldiers on the wall immediately sprang into action, operating the heavy ballistae mounted on the towers, adjusting their direction and angle.
With the dull thuds of mechanisms and the tremors of bowstrings, three crystal-tipped arrows trailing bright tails of flame cut through the air, arcing into the thin mist hundreds of meters away, then detonated.
A blinding flash erupted, dispersing most of the fog in that area, illuminating the wet grass and exposed rocks below.
However, within the reach of the light, aside from a few startled blue-tailed sparrows taking flight, there was nothing. The thin mist still flowed slowly in the unlit areas, showing no sign of enemies.
Yet, before they could let their guard down, a silver figure charged out from the edge of the mist.
It was a majestic white northern warhorse, ridden by a female knight clad in silver-gray armor.
She held a banner high—deep blue background, embroidered with crossed silver lightning bolts and a longsword. It was precisely the battle flag of the Storm Territory Restoration Army.
The flag flapped noisily in the wind generated by the gallop, like a declaration of defiance.
Alice abruptly reined in her horse. The steed reared up, letting out a clear, ringing neigh, then its front hooves slammed down heavily, coming to a steady stop on an open patch of ground about a kilometer away from the city wall.
She calmly raised her eyes, looking past this lethal distance to meet the tense gazes from atop the wall.
"Alert! Enemy attack! It's the Restoration Army banner!" The shouts and cries of the defending soldiers instantly shattered the brief silence.
The bronze bell on the city wall was frantically rung, emitting urgent, resonant chimes that carried far through the morning air.
Alice simply watched quietly, like a cold, silver statue.
And behind her, the silent ranks of Legion Knights emerged from the thin mist like a tide overflowing a bank, appearing beneath Chester Fortress.
They wore various armors, held spears, sword-and-shields, or lances. Their formation was strict and orderly, a murderous aura spreading out as if tangible.
Further back, human knights, dwarf warriors, elf rangers, and slime units of various forms were mixed together, forming a massive legion that almost filled the mountain pass.
Almost simultaneously, sharp whistles and hurried footsteps also rang out within Chester Fortress. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞
The mercenaries hired by the Merchant Alliance reacted swiftly, rushing out from barracks and defensive works, quickly assembling before the city wall.
Even more eye-catching were several giant griffins that flapped their wings, taking off from taller towers or squares, carrying people and landing steadily on the city wall.
The leading griffin had the most aloof expression. On its back sat a middle-aged knight with a resolute face—Raymond Sterling, commander of the Southern Army.
Behind him followed several knights and mages with similarly impressive auras, clearly all Extraordinary Professionals recruited by the Merchant Alliance.
The Restoration Army's chosen position was extremely tricky, precisely at the very edge of the maximum ballistic range of the fortress's defensive ballistae, rendering the wall's long-range firepower temporarily unable to pose an effective threat.
Thus, the two sides stood in silent confrontation across the kilometer distance.
The air seemed to solidify. Only the occasional snorts of warhorses and the flapping of banners in the morning wind broke the silence.
An intangible pressure continuously escalated within the silence, like a noose tightening, making soldiers on both sides feel somewhat breathless.
Raymond sat upright on his griffin, his sharp eyes slowly sweeping over the Restoration Army's formation below.
He was observing their troop deployment and equipment, while his mind raced, speculating on their tactical intentions.
This suffocating silence lasted a long time. So long that the palms of new recruits on the wall grew sweaty. So long that even seasoned veterans felt their hearts beat faster.
Finally, the Restoration Army formation parted slightly to both sides.
Louisa, holding a gem-encrusted staff, riding a similarly pure white, flawless steed, slowly emerged from the army's ranks, coming to the very front of the formation, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Alice.
Her appearance broke this oppressive silence.
Louisa raised her head, her gaze traversing the kilometer distance, landing on Raymond Sterling on the city wall.
"Lord Sterling."
Her voice wasn't loud, but aided by magic, it carried on the wind, lingering around the city wall. "I am quite curious. At this moment, standing atop that wall, sword in hand, with the Merchant Alliance's mercenaries and the remnants of the Southern Territory's forces gathered below you... For whom are you truly fighting?"
"Is it for those southern nobles who betrayed the royal family? Or for the Misty Bay Harbor Trade Alliance, reaching their hands into the internal affairs of another nation? Or perhaps... for the demons who brought suffering and destruction to this royal land."
The last two words struck like heavy hammers on the hearts of every defending soldier. Many people's faces instantly changed, their eyes involuntarily darting towards their commander.
Raymond's expression was extremely solemn. He looked down from his high vantage point at the distant Louisa, slowly drawing the fine steel longsword at his waist.
The blade reflected golden light under the morning sun, as if plated with a layer of Holy Light.
He took a deep breath and responded loudly with righteous words.
"Louisa von Whiteman!"
"We stand here not for any personal gain! We fight for justice! To protect every innocent commoner on this land from falling under the claws and slime of magical creatures!"
His sword tip pointed directly at Louisa, his words growing more impassioned. "And you! Louisa von Whiteman! As a princess recognized by the Kingdom, you should bear the responsibility of saving the Kingdom, expelling the demons! But what have you done?"
"You colluded with the Slime King from the swamp, willingly becoming its puppet and claw, forming this so-called 'Restoration Army,' which is actually the vanguard of the Demon King's invasion!"
"You even despicably let the wolf in through the front door, colluding with the northern Orc Court, igniting new warfare, adding frost to the snow for a Kingdom already suffering immensely!"
His words were full of incitement, each sentence like a meticulously crafted speech. "Look at the army behind you! Humans keeping company with magical creatures! What utter depravity and blasphemy!"
"You have betrayed your Bloodline, betrayed your people, betrayed the entire Kingdom! It is precisely because of your actions that this Kingdom is accelerating its slide into the abyss of destruction!"
"You, Louisa, are the Kingdom's greatest traitor and calamity! We stand here to stop you and the Demon King behind you from setting foot on this land! We will never submit to the Demon King's tyranny!"
Hearing their commander's accusations, many of the defending soldiers on the wall showed expressions of agreement and indignation, as if they had found a righteous reason to fight.
However, facing this storm of accusations and moral judgment, the expression on Louisa's face did not change in the slightest, remaining as calm as still water.
Only after Raymond's words fell did she speak again.
"Lord Sterling, your rhetoric is ornate, but it cannot conceal the paleness of facts."
"You say you fight for justice. Yet, as I know, certain members of the Misty Bay Harbor Trade Alliance have long maintained secret trade dealings with the Demon Legion entrenched in the Royal Capital—they sell grain, ore, even slaves to the demons, in exchange for magical materials, plundered wealth, and privileges within the Kingdom from the demons. Is this also justice?"
"You say we collude with magical creatures? Then what of the Merchant Alliance, which colluded with rebel nobles, tacitly permitting or even supporting their oppression of the populace, their excessive taxation, just to secure a stable supply of ore and grain?"
"What kind of life did the commoners of the Southern Territory lead before our Restoration Army arrived? Not enough food to eat, not enough clothes to wear. Every winter, elders and children froze to death in drafty wooden huts."
"The city hall warehouses were empty, unable to even pay the salaries of the guards maintaining basic order. Yet, the castle cellars of the nobles were piled high with grain and fine wine."
"You embezzled supplies meant for welfare homes and orphan aid, lining your own pockets. You passed off inferior goods as quality, distributing shoddy grain and equipment to frontline soldiers while selling high-quality supplies at inflated prices. The crimes you have committed on this land are too numerous to record. Your greed and wanton actions have long scarred this royal land..."
"Enough!" Raymond cut her off.
"No matter how glib your tongue, you cannot change the fact that you are invaders, the claws of the Demon King."
"As long as we stand firm here, you will not take another step forward. For the Kingdom, for everyone, justice shall prevail!"
Raymond stood there on the city wall, his words righteous, but his heart was far from the "righteous and awe-inspiring" image he projected.
As the Merchant Alliance's most illustrious knight, he was shrewd, cold-blooded, adept at calculation and playing with power.
He knew all too well what shady dealings his merchant backers were involved in behind the scenes. He knew perfectly well that he stood here not for any damn justice or for the commoners.
This so-called "exterminating the Demon King, protecting the commoners" was merely a pretty excuse to fool idiots.
What he truly needed to protect was the towering edifice the Merchant Alliance had built with countless Gold Coins, trade, and power.
The glory his knightly vows pledged allegiance to was the glory of money, the interests of the nobility, the commercial order ensuring trade routes remained open.
In his eyes, Louisa's accusations were just another form of hypocritical aristocratic political theater.
She, like himself, was merely fighting to defeat the opponent and then seize the fruits of victory. That was all.
As for the lives of those commoners, who would truly think and sacrifice for anyone other than themselves?
If the Merchant Alliance's tower truly crumbled one day, what Raymond Sterling would do was absolutely not perish with it. He would, without hesitation, seek a new kingdom to pledge allegiance to, continuing to maintain his status and interests.
He was tired of this hypocritical exchange of ornate rhetoric under the sun.
It was like two elaborately dressed orators standing on a carefully constructed stage, trying to refute each other with sets of exquisite yet hollow theories, while the audience below was stirred by these words, led along like docile cattle.
The absurdity was that whether it was the Demon King he spoke of or the demonic trade she mentioned, the starting point was not for any damn justice.
So-called justice, glory, protection... these were merely tools held in hand, used to drive those simple-minded pawns, pretty cloaks to conceal true motives.
Even though, at this moment, many fools on the wall believed his words, their faces showing fervent expressions of fighting for justice, to him, these soldiers were merely more useful pawns.
Their passion and lives were only for protecting the Merchant Alliance's interests and Raymond Sterling's personal status and future.
Thus, bathed in the golden morning light, his gray cloak fluttering slightly in the wind, the steel sword in his hand reflecting dazzling light, he seemed enveloped in Holy Light, a righteous envoy favored by the Deity.
He took a deep breath, mustering all his strength, and let out an earth-shaking roar towards the city wall and the distant Restoration Army:
"Exterminate the Demon King! For the Kingdom! For everyone!"
This roar was full of infectious incitement. The soldiers on the wall seemed infected, drawing their weapons, raising them high, and shouting with all their might:
"Exterminate the Demon King! For the Kingdom!"
"Exterminate the Demon King!"
The sound waves were initially somewhat chaotic but soon converged into a tsunami-like roar, one wave higher than the last, echoing over Chester Fortress.
Raymond stood at the center of this mountain-shaking, sea-roaring tide of sound, his back to the rising sun, facing the distant enemy.
His figure, amidst the support and shouts of the soldiers, seemed to grow taller and more resolute, as if he had truly become the embodiment of justice, gazing sorrowfully yet firmly at the evil awaiting purification.
Louisa took a deep look at Raymond.
She understood very well what this man was truly thinking at this moment. In fact, she had long seen through the nature of most nobles and merchants on this royal land.
They could weave any ornate lie, incite any fanatical emotion for the sake of profit.
But she had to admit, aside from Celeste who had always stood firmly behind her and understood her ideals, there truly were many who had questioned, rejected, opposed her, angrily denouncing her for "becoming a puppet of magical creatures," "betraying the Kingdom."
And she herself was not without moments of doubt.
On countless late nights, she would also search her heart and ask: Choosing to cooperate with the Slime Kingdom, entrusting the Kingdom's future to a group of slimes—was this path truly correct?
Might it bring even more terrible disaster to the already devastated White Horse Kingdom?
She didn't know the answer.
She was merely gambling. Gambling on the faint glimmer of light she could see in the direst straits. Gambling that the obscure "Lingering Revelation" in the Sun Church's ancient prophecy would truly come to pass. Gambling that His Majesty and its Slime Kingdom would demonstrate a different kind of order and possibility.
This was indeed very selfish.
She was like a gambler, staking the fate of the entire Kingdom on a gamble with an uncertain outcome.
But, could there be a worse outcome than the present?
The White Horse Kingdom had already become a nest for demons and a battlefield for various factions to slaughter each other. The people struggled amidst death, hunger, and fear.
Since no legendary hero stepped forward to turn the tide, then let her, this selfish individual, in a selfish way, arbitrarily carve out a new path for this dying Kingdom—one that at least held a sliver of hope.
She withdrew her gaze, no longer looking at Raymond bathed in Holy Light and shouts.
She looked up and exchanged a glance with Celeste circling in the sky, then said to Alice beside her, "Knight Commander Alice, commence the attack. Time is pressing."
Alice nodded, raised her right hand high, then swung it forward.
With her command, a series of heavy sounds came from the rear of the Restoration Army formation.
Pushed by human soldiers and assisted by Slime Artisans, several alchemical cannons, their bodies entirely forged from black iron and mithril, were slowly pushed from the rear of the army ranks to the front of the formation.
Their dark, gaping muzzles aimed distantly at the city wall a kilometer away.