Kingdom Building Game: Starting Out With A Million Upgrade Points!

Northern Wall of the Capital

The cold northern winds howled over the barren fields as armies assembled, siege equipment standing.

Freya sat tall atop her midnight-black steed, her crimson cloak billowing behind her like flames against the gray sky.

Beside her, Serilda, her icy blue armor reflecting the pale light, her dark horse restless beneath her, stamping its hooves on the ground.

Both women stared at the towering city walls that had morphed into something else.

Freya spoke, narrowing her fiery eyes.

"What… in the hell is this?"

Her grip tightened on the reins.

"Did that mad tyrant make a pact with some damned evil god? This reeks of forbidden magic."

Serilda remained composed, her purple eyes narrowed as she gazed at the shimmering runes.

"Possibly…"

"But there's another explanation. A mage—an exceptionally powerful one."

Freya scoffed.

"A mage? This?"

She pointed at the walls, her fingers twitching near the hilt of her sword.

"No ordinary mage could manage this kind of enchantment. It'd take a tactical-class master, and even then, weeks of preparation. That wall changed in an instant, what better explanation than forbidden magic!"

Serilda's gaze remained fixed on the runes.

"Regardless, it doesn't matter how. It's another reason we need to remove Arkanos. Power like this in his hands… it's a threat to the world."

Before Freya could respond, the siege began.

"Ladders up! Move! Move!"

barked one of the knights. Soldiers heaved wooden siege ladders against the enchanted walls, grunting with exertion as the first wave scrambled upward, shields strapped to their backs.

But the moment the first man's hand grazed the wall—

CRACKLE!

VZZZZZ!

A burst of green energy burst out, hurling the soldier into the sky like a ragdoll.

His scream faded quickly as his body smashed into the ground with a sickening crunch.

"What the—?!" shouted another soldier, frozen mid-climb. Before he could react, the same energy flared.

WHAM! He and all the others climbing the ladder were launched backward, crashing into their comrades below, breaking bones upon impact, some dying instantly.

"They're enchanted! The walls are enchanted!"

Screamed a panicked soldier, dropping his ladder and stumbling back.

Othis who managed to survive with broken bones found themselves unable to move at all.

"I-I can't move, I can't feel my legs!" one of them gasped, his voice trembling.

"My body… something is broken… it won't…!"

Another soldier crawled toward him, only to recoil in horror.

Most had their bones twisted at very unnatural angles due to the sheer force of the knockback.

"Healers, we need healers over here!"

"They're paralyzed! Gods, it's magic! They're still alive but—"

Suddenly…

BOOM!

The massive battering ram—an iron-plated siege weapon known as the "Dreadmaul"—was wheeled forward.

Pulled by desperate men, it rammed into the gates with thunderous force. The gates didn't even flinch. Instead, a pulse of green energy erupted from the impact point.

"Pull back!" someone yelled, too late.

The entire Dreadmaul was hurled backward as if slapped by an invisible giant. It soared through the air, crushing dozens beneath its monstrous weight as it slammed into the ground with a deafening crash, dust rising into the air.

"Knockback enchantments and paralysis runes. Arkanos wasn't just fortifying the walls. He turned them into weapons."

Serilda said as she married her gaze.

Freya's fists tightened on her reins.

"Bastard's outplaying us without even leaving his throne."

The knights atop the fortified walls nocked their arrows.

"First volley—FIRE!" roared a knight.

A storm of arrows rained down upon the enemy forces below, darkening the sky for a brief moment before slamming into the clustered soldiers.

Screams erupted as bodies collapsed, shields shattered, and blood painted the frost-bitten ground.

Serilda, observing from atop her dark steed, remained focused. Her piercing purple eyes scanned the battlefield, calculating what their next course of action would be.

Freya, beside her, gritted her teeth, her crimson hair whipping like flames in the wind.

"Tch… are we just going to stay here Serilda? Our men are getting slaughtered." Freya spat, tightening her grip on her reins.

Serilda's gaze remained fixed on the walls, with a cold emotionless expression.

She finally spoke.

"If we cannot breach or climb the walls…"

"We'll simply leap over them."

Freya shot her a sharp look, eyebrows raised. "Leap over? Are you mad? We're men not beasts. Those things are at least a hundred feet tall."

"Listen to my plan before you assume." Serilda replied flatly, her cold logic leaving no room for doubt.

She raised her hand, signaling to her officers. "Ready the catapults. Load the soldiers."

The men hesitated, glancing at each other in confusion.

"You heard the commander! MOVE!" barked one of the captains, snapping them into action.

Massive siege catapults creaked as they were repositioned, ropes straining under the weight. Meanwhile, Serilda turned to the mages, her voice sharp and commanding.

"Mages, surround the bodies of the knights with thick vines. Encase them fully—make sure they can survive the landing. The vines cover them with death magic so they will wither upon impact, leaving them free to fight."

The ground trembled as arcane energy surged. Mages chanted, their hands weaving complex sigils in the air.

The knights stationed atop the enchanted walls squinted into the distance as the enemy mages began their incantations. The sky darkened slightly with the surge of arcane energy, faint green veins of magic crackling across the battlefield.

One knight, gripping his bow tightly, furrowed his brow. "What are they doing…?"

The knights watched as thick, dark-green vines erupted from the ground below, coiling around the armored bodies of enemy soldiers. The vines twisted tightly, encasing the knights like cocoons.

"By the gods… what are they planning?" another knight gasped, stepping forward to look instinctively. His fingers trembled on the string of his bow.

"Are they restraining them?"

"And why, pray tell, would they do that?"

They watched as the knights in the vine balls were then placed into the catapults then they slowly began to realise.

"They're not restraining them…" whispered a knight, eyes wide with horror.

"They're preparing them."

"Impossible. You can't just… launch soldiers like that! They'll die on impact!" a third knight yelled, trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

Then the catapults fired.

With thunderous cracks, the vine-wrapped soldiers were hurled into the sky—dozens of them, sailing over the enchanted walls like projectiles.

The knights atop the wall watched in shock.

"They're flying…?" one knight breathed, his mouth agape.

Moments later—

BOOM!

The first impact hit just beyond the wall's defenses. Dust and debris exploded outward. The vines withered instantly, dissolving into ash as armored figures emerged from the craters—completely unscathed, blades drawn.

"They survived?!" someone screamed, stumbling back in panic.

"Hold the line!" shouted a knight commander, trying to regain control, though his voice wavered with fear.

Back behind the walls.

Freya heard the panic of the knights at the walls and Serilda's plan had worked. "You're insane, Serilda. But… I've always admired you for it."

Serilda turned her gaze toward her. "Enough chatter. We'll have to jump as well."

Freya's laughter erupted, sharp and wild.

"Ha! Finally—something interesting! I was getting bored down here anyway."

She drew her sword, the crimson blade catching the light as if thirsting for blood.

"Let's show that bastard Arkanos we're not to be underestimated."

Serilda gave a small nod, her own blade sliding from its sheath—a blade as cold and merciless as her will

The next wave of soldiers was loaded onto the catapults, their bodies encased in pulsating vines.

"Release!" Serilda commanded.

With a thunderous CRACK, the catapults launched, flinging the vine-wrapped knights through the sky like meteors.

But then—

CRACK!

A deafening boom echoed through the air, not from the catapults, but from something else entirely.

It appears as though figures had leaped into the sky.

A shadow burst into view, streaking downward with meteoric speed.

A figure clad in blood-red and obsidian-black armor tore through the clouds—a woman with braided hair flowing like tendrils behind her.

Massive iron gauntlets, etched with crimson runes, gleamed as she twisted mid-air.

She let out a thunderous roar that seemed to shake the very air.

"SMASH!"

Her fist collided with one of the vine-wrapped knights mid-flight. The force of the impact was catastrophic.

BOOM!

The vine cocoon didn't just burst—it exploded, shattering with a sickening crunch as mana erupted from the crushed bodies within.

Fragments of armor and limbs were flung all over the place, raining down upon the soldiers below.

The knights on both sides froze in stunned silence, the battlefield suddenly fell quiet.

The woman landed hard, her armored boots cracking the stone beneath her as a dust cloud exploded outward.

But she wasn't alone.

From above, more figures descended—men clad in similar crimson-and-black armor, each wielding massive war hammers that seemed impossibly large for even the strongest of knights.

They didn't care about grace or finesse.

They only cared about destruction.

With a terrifying burst of strength and speed, the male knights swung their hammers mid-fall, smashing into the remaining vine-wrapped soldiers still airborne.

Each hit sent the vine cocoons spiraling out of control, crashing violently back into the enemy's ranks below.

The ground quaked with every impact, splintering bodies and crushing armor, as screams of agony filled the air.

When the dust finally settled, the battlefield was littered with broken bodies—soldiers now reduced to mangled corpses by the hammers of these new warriors.

Silence reigned for a heartbeat.

Then, through the rising dust, one of the crimson-clad knights stepped forward, his armored boots crunching over debris and shattered bones.

He tilted his head back slightly, his voice low but resonated with a primal force that made it echo across the battlefield.

"So many opponents to smash," he growled, cracking his neck with audible snaps as his grip tightened around the haft of his war hammer.

Behind him, the woman with the iron gauntlets smiled darkly, blood dripping from her gauntlet fists.