Chapter 640: Hans Keeps Gate

Hans stood atop the gatehouse platform, his empty left sleeve pinned neatly across his chest with a silver brooch.

Hans called down to the portcullis crew to test the counterweight release while the remaining civilians crossed behind the gate.

High above the archway, counterweights of the portcullis creaked faintly as the dawn wind blew from the valleys.

In his right hand, the veteran commander held a balanced broadsword, its pommel resting lightly against his leather thigh guard.

Beside him, two dozen city guardsmen paced behind the battlements, gripping their spears with nervous, tense anticipation.

"Stay alert down there," Hans called out to the lower courtyard, his gruff voice steady and commanding.

"The wind brought no smoke from the viaduct, but the alley cats are not prowling this morning."

"The morning fog is thicker than usual, commander," his lead sergeant observed, leaning over the parapet.

"It provides perfect concealment for any strike team attempting to slip past the outer redoubts unnoticed."

A series of sudden explosions rocked the outer palisade fifty yards down the western curtain, throwing sparks into the mist.

"Enemy assault on the western curtain!" a lookout screamed, pointing his spear toward a squad of cloaked saboteurs.

"Hold your positions!" Hans barked, grabbing the lookout’s shoulder with his powerful grip.

"That is a noisy diversion meant to draw our reserves away from the primary entrance!"

He peered through the embrasure, his seasoned soldier instincts tracking a subtle disturbance near the main gate winch.

Six figures clad in matte black tunics were scaling the auxiliary drainage flue, carrying incendiary charges and crowbars.

They did not seek to breach the wall or slaughter sentries, for they intended to destroy the lifting gear of the portcullis.

"Defend the gears!" Hans shouted to his veteran sergeants, drawing his broadsword with a sharp hiss of honed steel.

"If they drop the counterweights... our supply wagons will never reach the forward camp!"

He vaulted down the service stairs with astonishing agility for a one-armed veteran, his feet finding perfect purchase on every step.

The lead infiltrator reached the winch landing, brandishing a curved scimitar while his comrades set thermite fuses against the winding drums.

"Out of the way, cripple!" the saboteur leader sneered, lunging forward with a vicious thrust aimed at Hans’s unguarded left side.

Hans did not flinch, pivoting smoothly on his right heel to let the enemy blade slice empty air beneath his pinned sleeve.

He used the momentum of his pivot to drive the pommel of his broadsword upward, smashing the infiltrator’s jaw with brutal force.

The saboteur stumbled back, spitting shattered teeth and blood as he slashed wildly with a blind horizontal cut.

Hans parried the blow with a crisp deflection, sliding his edge along the scimitar to sever the tendons in his foe’s wrist.

The curved weapon clattered against the stone flags, followed immediately by the infiltrator’s agonized cry of defeat.

Before the remaining five saboteurs could swarm him, the gatehouse guards arrived, leveling their spears in an impenetrable wall.

"Step away from the winch mechanism... or every single one of you dies right here!" Hans roared with absolute authority.

Seeing their leader crippled and their incendiary fuses stamped out by disciplined city guards, the surviving infiltrators surrendered their weapons.

"Bind them tightly and drag them to the cells," the veteran commander commanded, wiping a speck of blood from his blade with a piece of cloth.

"Send a patrol through the outer ditch to ensure no second squad is lingering in the fog."

The gate sergeants quickly disarmed the captives, securing their hands with iron manacles before marching them down into the guardhouse.

The city guards raised a hearty cheer from the battlements, saluting their veteran commander with lifted spears.

A weary messenger dismounted his lathered steed at the perimeter barricades, presenting the victory dispatch bearing the seal of the city guard.

Morning daylight crept over the viaduct peaks, casting a pale glow across the forward camp where supply wagons stood unloaded.

Three leagues away at the viaduct forward camp, Hajin took the dispatch from the courier’s hand and unfurled the damp parchment.

"Hans held the southern gate," he announced to Juna and Ferra, a proud smile spreading across his face.

"The enemy sent an elite sabotage squad to disable the winch gear, but Hans crushed them before they could ignite a single charge."

"Old Hans never lets anything slip through his fingers," Ferra chuckled, adjusting the leather straps of her tool belt.

"Even with only one hand... he is worth ten ordinary garrison commanders!"

"Our rear supply line is completely secure," Juna said with immense relief, resting her glaive against a stack of crates.

"Now we can distribute the field rations to our vanguard battalions before the final assault begins."

Hajin nodded with a calm smile, opening the celestial stream interface to access the logistics exchange catalog.

With the home front secure and the battle lines holding firm, he proceeded to authorize the scheduled supply distribution for their marching troops.

[ Stream store transaction: Field logistics lot approved! ]

[ Item purchased: 20 staple-food packs (25 credits each) -> 500 credits ]

[ Item purchased: 10 sterile field dressings (20 credits each) -> 200 credits ]

[ Item purchased: 10 comfort & hygiene kits (30 credits each) -> 300 credits ]

[ Total transaction cost: 1,000 credits deducted! ]

[ Stream credit balance: 70,435 credits -> 69,435 credits remaining! ]

A series of spatial ripples shimmered across the clearing as the purchased supply crates materialized neatly beside the mess pavilion.

Quartermasters and logistics runners hurried forward across the grass, lifting the containers and distributing the fresh supplies to the frontline platoons.

The troops cheered as warm, nutritious rations and clean bandages were handed out across the trenches, restoring their spirits.

The aroma of fresh bread and simmering dried vegetables filled the air, warming the spirits of the weary sentries.

Logistics runners moved swiftly between the tents, making sure every squad received their allotted rations without delay.

Ferra broke open one of the hygiene packages, handing fresh hand wipes to her apprentices so they could clean the soot from their forearms.

"Tell the kitchen staff to brew three extra cauldrons of spiced tea," Hajin instructed the quartermaster with a satisfied smile.

"Every soldier on the perimeter deserves a hot meal before the morning horn sounds."

Hajin watched the organized distribution with quiet satisfaction, feeling the strength of his entire command unit harmonizing as one.

Above the bustling camp, the celestial broadcast interface glowed with an immense cascade of golden donations and cheering viewers.

[ Seoul_Tactician: "Hans held the home gate with one arm while the wagons cleared. What a defender!" ]

[ StarlightScholar: "The enemy tried to sabotage the supply lines, but Hans read through their trick instantly!" ]

[ IronVanguard: "And Hajin immediately issuing the scheduled 1,000-credit logistics drop to feed and heal the troops!" ]

[ HearthKeeper: "Wallet down from 70,435 to 69,435 credits, every single coin spent with surgical purpose!" ]

[ ShadowMage44: "The home front holds, the vanguard is fed, and the final clash against the Incarnation is at hand!" ]

Hajin looked toward the eastern horizon where the dark storm clouds swirled over the viaduct arches.

Hans asked each quartermaster to mark which company received grain, dressings, and blankets before the wagons returned to the depot.

"No soldier should have to beg for a second meal after the first went to the wrong tent," he told them.

Loccy helped move the crates away from the gate, clearing a lane wide enough for the next medical cart.

"Leave this space empty," Hans said, planting his spear beside the marked path. "If the horns sound, the wounded come through here first."

The rear was protected, his companions stood ready, and the decisive battle for the realm would begin with the rising sun.