“Sir Scott, they’re climbing up~” Just as Scott pulled up the guy who had wet his pants, the enemy, under the cover of archers, was already less than half a person’s height away from the platform on the fort gate. In desperation, Scott pulled out the long sword from his waist and slashed wildly, but every time he was blocked by the enemy's shield. Scott had no choice but to look at the enemy soldiers getting closer and closer. In desperation, he lifted the rolling log on the ground and hit the soldier who had appeared in front of him on the head. This time, the guy was not so lucky. He rolled down and broke his spine. Then Scott added another stone to his head. Blood dripped everywhere, and his white brains were scattered all over the floor.
Seeing their officers working so hard, other peasant soldiers also quickly got up from the ground, raised stones and greeted those who were still attacking the city...
"Sir Scott, someone is coming up over there!"
Scott looked in the direction of the peasant soldiers' fingers and saw several peasant soldiers who had been frightened by the arrows flying from the enemy and ran downstairs one after another. In an instant, several guys holding swords in their right hands and shields in their left hands had jumped into the city wall. He waved at the peasants and soldiers who were still throwing rocks down, just like chopping melons and vegetables. In the blink of an eye, seven or eight peasants and soldiers fell to the ground.
At this time, the disabled veteran who was in charge of commanding the peasant soldiers on the arrow tower took the bow and arrow from the soldiers around him and shot at the enemy soldiers who had rushed up.
"Ah!" An enemy soldier who was slashing in the direction of Scott felt as if his calf was nailed by something. He suddenly fell to his knees and rolled back and forth.
Facing dozens of powerful regular troops, at the beginning of the war, the valley peasant soldiers could barely hold their ground temporarily under the command of retired and disabled veterans of the Wells Corps. However, as the battle lasted longer, the balance gradually tilted towards those with formal military training.
At this time, one enemy soldier after another on the wall of Beiguan Army Fort rushed towards it under the cover of other soldiers. The peasants and soldiers in the valley fought hard under the leadership of a group of veterans. Other Sapp soldiers and county soldiers who had some fighting ability had already joined forces with the enemy. A few guys even started to rush towards the fort door downstairs, trying to open the fort door to let their own people outside the door rush in.
Just when the two sides were in a stalemate, in addition to the twenty garrisoned garrison, more than sixty peasant soldiers who had retreated to Boulder Town rushed out from behind the enemy lines under the leadership of patrol captain Obote.
"Brothers, come on!" Obote gave the order, and the peasants and soldiers of Boulder Town were seen holding spears and short knives in their hands and rushing towards Doyle and others who were commanding the rear formation of the siege troops.
"Lord Baron, those guys from Boulder Town are here." Nick, the adjutant beside him, reported to Doyle who was watching the battle.
Doyle looked back and saw that in addition to spears and daggers, some of these guys were carrying wooden sticks and hoes.
"Huh, since they are asking for death, let's help them. Bring twenty people and come with me to block them and buy time for the brothers who are already on the wall."
"Yes!"
Facing the group of peasant-looking guys in front of him, Doyle rushed into the peasants and soldiers with a broadsword in his hand, thrusting and slashing with his sword. In less than a mouthful of food, several peasant soldiers had already fallen under his sword.
Facing this group of soldiers who have been fighting on the battlefield all year round, the peasant soldiers in the valley rushed forward even though they knew they would die. He raised the hoe in his hand and swung it at the enemy. In less than two rounds, he was chopped to the ground, bleeding.
Looking at the charging Boulder Town garrison and the enemy soldiers climbing up the city ladder, a disabled veteran of the Wells Legion said loudly to the valley peasant soldiers who were retreating step by step: "Brothers, behind us are unarmed children, women and the elderly. There are our homes, our land, our wives, and our children. If we let this These bastards have passed, and they will slaughter our wives, kill our children, seize our land, and burn our homes. We are all men. If we don’t use our blood to stop these bloodthirsty demons, we will lose everything. Are you willing? "
"No!"
"No!"
"Kill!" Following the encouragement of the disabled veterans, the bloody instincts of the other peasant soldiers were awakened, and they forgot about the danger and rushed towards the rushing enemy soldiers with full of anger. Several peasant soldiers faced off against one enemy soldier, punching, kicking, biting, and using everything that could be used. Those disabled veterans, regardless of their physical pain, rushed towards the enemies who were constantly charging...
Seeing that the city gate could not be attacked for a long time, Dalton was suddenly furious, and he slashed at the peasant soldiers who were rushing towards the boulder like crazy, and his eyes were red. He underestimated this group of untouchables who were dressed in rags and disheveled clothes. He did not expect that they would resist so resolutely. They knew that they were going to die, but they still persisted in persisting.
The battle lasted from noon to just before sunset, with neither side making effective progress. The peasant soldiers in the valley held back the enemy with their numerical superiority. Corpses were everywhere on the walls of the Beiguan Army Fort. Some peasant soldiers whose abdomens were pierced by sharp swords clung tightly to the thighs of the enemies who had already killed them. They tried their best to prevent the enemy from taking a step forward and used their own deaths to gain a glimmer of hope for their families behind them...
Their behavior, although not noble, was definitely tragic enough. This was a tragic way of living toward death.
At this time, Scott, the commander of the valley peasant soldiers, was still holding on to the city wall, covering his bleeding arm. Looking at the corpses of the valley peasant soldiers everywhere and the soldiers who were still fighting with the enemy, Scott wanted to open his thighs and continue fighting. Just as he was slowly walking towards an enemy soldier who was about to climb the city wall with his sword, a harsh sound of a horse neighing came...
Scott braced himself and slowly turned his head to look outside the city gate. He vaguely saw forty or fifty cavalry rushing from behind the garrison in Boulder Town towards the enemy soldiers who were chasing the valley peasant soldiers. The cavalryman at the front picked up the broadsword in his hand and slashed at a fleeing figure. The guy's head flew out instantly, and then there was a scream, accompanied by blood flying all over the sky...
"Sir Scott, Chief Scott..." Due to excessive bleeding, Scott fainted amidst the shouts of a peasant soldier. Under the cover of several people, he was carried to the other corner.
"Don't let these bastards escape! You guys, go chase those who are fleeing to the north. You guys follow me to support the fort. Others, rescue the wounded and clean up the remaining enemies!"
"Yes! Sir Tredok." The returning cavalry of the Wells Corps took the order...