"My lord, something seems amiss in the western dock area," a personal guard responsible for blockading the streets suddenly hurried to Earl Jacques Mede. "I heard strange noises coming from there, and I dispatched two teams to investigate, but none of them have returned."

"What?" Jacques Mede frowned. "Are you sure you didn't mishear?"

"No, I heard it very clearly. It sounded like someone constantly inhaling and exhaling, like a 'huff, huff' sound..." The personal guard even imitated the sound twice.

"Not just a vagrant snoring?"

"Anyone sleeping outside in this weather would have frozen to death long ago, my lord," the guard insisted. "And if a person could snore that loudly, it would have to be a giant nearly as tall as the city walls."

The Earl stared at him for a long while before turning his head and shouting, "Sir Dorken!"

"My lord, you called?" A nobleman with a maple leaf crest on his chest approached.

"Take your personal guard and have my men check the city docks," Jacques patted him on the shoulder. "Report any news to me immediately."

"Uh... could you ask someone else?" the young noble hesitated. "My father instructed me to enter the castle with you."

"How long will it take to look around the docks? There's still a lot of time to kill here," the Earl chuckled. "Even if the Honeysuckle rebels surrender, I'll still be here waiting for you."

"Then... very well."

Watching the two leave, Jacques's face turned cold. What a joke! Did they think sending a son to enter the castle with me meant they would share the same credit? They were counting their chickens before they hatched. The missive from His Majesty only mentioned me!

Not long after, he faintly heard gunshots from the west.

What's going on? Jacques immediately became alert. The eldest son of the Maple family wasn't even assigned a firearm.

Just as he was about to send his knights to check the situation, the personal guard who had reported earlier stumbled into the camp. "M-My lord... something terrible has happened!"

"What's terrible?"

"The rebel king... the rebel king is here!" he said, his eyes wide. "There are several thousand of them, and they are heading towards the castle!"

"Are you talking about Roland Wimbledon's forces?" Jacques raised his hand and slapped the guard. "Several thousand people? If you spread such rumors in the camp, do you believe I won't hang you from the city gate right now?"

"My lord, they are indeed carrying the flag of the Greycastle royal family," the guard didn't dare to dodge and knelt on one knee. "I wanted Sir Dorken's retinue to capture a few people to ask what was going on, but as soon as they charged out, they were..."

"They were what?" the Earl asked through gritted teeth.

"They were mowed down by a dense volley of gunfire," the guard's expression suggested he had seen something extremely terrifying. "At that moment, it was like countless sparks appeared in the darkness, and the crackling sound hardly stopped! More than twenty people had only charged less than a hundred paces before they all fell to the ground, not even a single horse could stand!" He swallowed hard. "My lord, I have never seen such dense gunfire. How could they have instantly killed the knight's guard if there weren't at least a thousand men?"

"Where's the eldest son of the Maple family?"

"He... ran away."

The Earl slumped into his chair, his legs weak. How was this possible? His mind was in turmoil. Considering the time it took for messages to travel, the four great families had only started their operation yesterday noon, and the Fourth Prince had already arrived at Longsong Stronghold tonight. Did this mean he could travel between the two places in just one day? Even a sailboat with favorable winds couldn't achieve that speed! And a thousand men was pure fantasy. Transporting so many people at once would require a massive fleet, but intelligence from Border Town indicated that they didn't even have a single ship before winter!

How could things have turned out like this?

No, the more this happened, the more he needed to remain calm. Jacques Mede wiped the sweat from his brow. The numbers must have been exaggerated by the guard. He was simply terrified by the opponent's gun volley. Without torches for illumination, who could know how many people were standing in the dark dock area. Moreover, the range of firearms was only about forty paces. Although their power was terrifying, their reload speed and accuracy were extremely low. Even if everyone was equipped with such weapons, the streets leading to the castle district could only accommodate a maximum of twenty people side by side. As long as the Wild Rose family and the Howling Wolf family were notified to gather all their knights, they could launch a charge immediately after the opponent's volley. The other mercenaries and guards could then swarm in, and they might be able to defeat their opponents.

After all, fighting in the streets was different from fighting in the open. The reload time of firearms was too fatal.

"Damn it," Jacques slammed his fist on the armrest of the chair and ordered the captain of the guard, "Go and invite the Earl of Wild Rose and the Viscount of Howling Wolf here. Also, I want all the men with firearms to block the entrance to the castle district. Go quickly!"

Anyway, training with firearms was much faster than training slaves. Let these people delay the opponent's advance first, and it wouldn't matter if a few of them died. If necessary, the knights could just trample over them.

But the news brought by the captain of the guard left the Earl stunned. "The two of them have already left the camp with their men!"

To prevent Peiro from escaping, the four great families each occupied one side of the castle district. He hadn't expected them to receive the news even faster than he did.

At this moment, a barrage of gunshots was already ringing out outside the castle district, just like the personal guard had reported earlier, like a dense drumbeat that could be clearly heard even on a snowy night.

"These bastards!" Jacques felt a chill in his heart. He cast one last glance at the castle and had no choice but to order a retreat—of course, only for himself and his personal guard. As for the people still in the castle, he no longer had time to care.

Upon rushing out of the castle district, the Earl realized the situation was dire.

Enemies were everywhere outside, and any knight who tried to cross the blockade line was mercilessly struck down. The weapons in their hands seemed to fire multiple shots without reloading, which was completely different from the firearms sent by Tifeiko! The scene was chaotic. Apart from Sir Dorken, who had fled first, the men from the other three families were trapped here.

"My lord, what should we do?"

"Summon the ironclad troops," he roared. "We'll follow behind the iron shields and charge in one direction together!"

As the three hastily gathered ironclad troops slowly advanced with their shields raised, the other knights also noticed the movement and followed almost unanimously—if they couldn't break through the opponent's defenses this time, they probably wouldn't have another chance to escape.

However, Jacques Mede's plan failed... When they were still a hundred paces away from the enemy, their weapons spewed out dazzling fire. The shields, which should have been able to block the lead bullets, were riddled with holes by the hail of bullets. The shield-bearers in the front row were instantly killed, and the flying metal fragments pierced through body after body, raising a thick cloud of blood mist behind the iron shields.

Before the Earl could even shout the order to charge, he was directly knocked to the ground by a volley of fire.