The soldiers of the Autriff army formed a human wall, resisting wave after wave of rebel attacks.
The rebels advanced triumphantly, gradually gaining the upper hand with their absolute numerical advantage and the raging fire of revenge.
Brick after brick was destroyed by the flames of war, and section after section of the city wall was breached.
Finally, the rebels poured into Osk City like a tide.
The streets instantly descended into chaos, with flashes of swords and blood flowing freely, turning Osk City into a living hell.
A brutal massacre began.
Filled with hatred, the rebels killed anyone they saw, sparing neither soldiers nor civilians. The city was filled with cries, pleas for mercy, and the heartbreaking screams of women and children mingled with the wails of the elderly.
Houses were set ablaze, and raging fires devoured everything, with thick smoke obscuring the sky.
In front of the palace, Prince Autriff, clad in blood-stained armor, stared blankly and despairingly at everything before him.
He knew that the situation was hopeless and his imperial dream was completely shattered.
Watching the rebels ravage the city like wolves, his heart was filled with guilt and self-blame.
"I cannot let my family fall into their hands and suffer humiliation," the prince murmured to himself, his voice trembling slightly.
He slowly drew his sword, a trace of determination flashing in his eyes. Turning around, he walked towards his family, each step as heavy as if he were dragging a thousand pounds.
"I'm sorry..." he whispered, tears welling up in his eyes.
Then, he wielded the sword in his hand, again and again, personally ending the lives of his family.
Each swing of the sword felt like cutting his own heart, but he knew it was the last thing he could do for his family.
After his family had all fallen, Prince Autriff slowly turned around, facing the tide of rebels rushing towards him.
He took a deep breath, raised his sword high, and aimed it at his own neck.
"This is all over..." he whispered, then swung with all his might.
As the prince's body slowly fell, the bloody battle of Osk City finally came to an end, but the wounds suffered by the city, and the pain and hatred brought by the war, lingered like a shadow, difficult to dispel for a long time.
When the news of Prince Autriff's sacrifice reached the capital, the entire palace was shrouded in gloom.
Emperor Gustav was shocked by the news, and the teacup in his hand fell to the ground with a crash, shattering into pieces.
He slowly raised his hand, covering his eyes, and tears quietly slipped through his fingers.
"Brother, I'm sorry to you, sorry to the Empress Dowager," he said in a trembling voice, filled with grief and self-blame. Prince Autriff's heroic struggle and ultimate sacrifice were like a sharp knife, piercing Gustav's heart.
Memories of the past with his brother constantly flashed through his mind like a revolving lantern.
In this endless grief, a glimmer of hope quietly appeared.
It was because of Prince Autriff's tenacious resistance and the heavy damage his army inflicted on the rebels that the rebels had to temporarily halt their offensive against the central provinces.
This brief but precious respite allowed Countess Fiana to gain crucial time to improve the Normandy defense line.
At this moment of racing against time, the Normandy defense line construction site was a hive of activity.
Workers worked day and night, sweating profusely, carrying heavy stones and building solid fortifications.
Countess Fiana personally oversaw the command, not letting go of any detail.
Under her leadership, the Normandy defense line was finally completed on schedule, like an indestructible steel Great Wall,
Stretching across the path of the rebel advance.
At the same time, the empire's other three legions were also completing their reorganization in full swing.
Along with them were eighteen Saint-level powerhouses.
Each of these Saint-level powerhouses had a powerful aura, with coldness and determination in their eyes. Their arrival undoubtedly added a powerful force to the Normandy defense line.
In the palace's bedroom, Emperor Gustav slowly stood up from his sickbed.
His figure was slightly hunched, his face haggard, but his eyes revealed a resolute aura. He coughed lightly a few times, then summoned the four ministers: Neumann, Rheinsky, Brell, and Horns.
The four ministers rushed over and knelt to salute the Emperor upon seeing him.
"Your Majesty!" they said in unison.
Gustav slightly raised his hand, signaling them to rise. He slowly scanned the four ministers, his eyes full of trust and expectation.
"I entrust the太子and the empire to you four ministers," he said, his voice a little weak but sonorous. "Now the situation is critical, and the rebels are eyeing us covetously. I hope you can assist the太子and protect the empire's realm."
Upon hearing this, the four ministers were shocked and deeply felt the weight of their responsibility. They knelt again and solemnly said, "Your ministers will do their best to live up to Your Majesty's trust!"
Gustav nodded slightly, a hint of relief on his face.
"His Majesty has passed away!" the head maidservant shouted loudly.
The next day, the faint light of dawn gently sprinkled on the quiet palace complex.
In Emperor Gustav's bedroom, however, there was an unusual silence.
Gustav lay quietly on the bed, his face peaceful, as if he had fallen into a deep sleep.
The corners of his mouth were slightly upturned, with a faint smile, murmuring, "Elizabeth, I'm coming to find you."
His voice was soft and weak, as if he were telling his inner thoughts to the air.
Elizabeth, the person who occupied an important place in his heart, perhaps the love of his life, perhaps the queen he could not forget.
Now, at the last moment of his life, he could finally let go of everything in this world and pursue the attachment in his heart.
The head maidservant, as usual, walked into the bedroom with a bowl of medicine in her hand, her steps light.
She thought she would see the Emperor half-leaning on the bed as usual, with a slightly tired but gentle expression. However, when her eyes fell on the Emperor, her whole body instantly froze, and the bowl of medicine in her hand almost slipped.
"Your Majesty..." Her voice trembled, her eyes full of shock and disbelief.
She rushed to Gustav's side and reached out her trembling hands, gently probing the Emperor's breath.
After confirming that the Emperor was no longer breathing, her tears gushed out like a flood, "His Majesty has passed away!" she shouted loudly, her voice sharp and mournful, echoing in the bedroom.
This cry, like a bolt from the blue, instantly broke the silence of the palace.
Soon, the news spread quickly throughout the palace, and the maids and eunuchs showed panic and ran around spreading the news.
The entire palace seemed to be shrouded in a heavy gloom, filled with sadness and unease.
In this sad atmosphere, Gustav's departure also meant the end of an era.
