Chapter 720 The Wolf Flag Flying
The smoke of the cast-iron bombs was wrapped in the burning aroma of flesh and blood and filled the city wall~
On the west wall, Ron licked his chapped lips, and the scar extending from the brow bone to the lower jaw turned purple due to congestion. He pulled the dagger out of the burned soldier's eye socket with his backhand. When the sole of his boot crushed the throat bone, it made a crisp sound like a cracking walnut.
"Let these offenders taste roasted chestnuts again!" Ron's hoarse roar rushed out of his throat mixed with the smell of iron. The sixty soldiers behind him immediately divided into three wedges and penetrated into the enemy formation.
A Lombard archer tried to sneak attack from behind the arrow stack, but Ron hit him on the bridge of the nose with his scarred face. The muffled sound of the broken cartilage piercing into the brain made the two recruits bend over and hold their heads.
When Rogge, captain of the Grenadier Company, threw the third cast-iron bomb, the blood from the previous explosion was still stuck to the tiger's mouth of his left hand. In the blink of an eye, the rotating sphere bounced against the stone steps and exploded at the waist of the reinforcements who were thirty steps away. More than twenty Lombard soldiers were broken at the waist like wheat stalks swept by a scythe. The upper body of a flag-bearer flew over the crenel, and the heraldic flag in his hand was inserted in front of Claus's shield wall with a "dong" - the silk surface painted with the golden lion pattern just covered the severed neck of a headless corpse. Splattered broken intestines hung on the torches on the city wall, and the smell of burning grease caused the Lombard soldiers to retching.
"Cross push!"
h Ron used his knight's sword to cut through the thick smoke, and the blade accurately stuck into the gap under the armpit of a piece of mail. The moment he twisted his wrist, five iron rings flew away with pieces of flesh, and the Lombard soldier's right arm suddenly dropped like a puppet with its strings broken. The grenadiers behind him tacitly added a hook kick.
Hand the screaming enemy towards the shield wall spikes in the direction of Klaus.
An enemy soldier who was deafened by the air wave looked around blankly, and was suddenly squeezed by three shields until his eyeballs popped out. When the broken ribs stabbed out from the back, they happened to pierce the throat of his companion.
At this time, a roar like a tide suddenly came from the west wall~
More than three hundred remaining soldiers of the First Division of the Welsh Army poured in along the gap in the ladder, and the newly tempered mail formed silver waves in the firelight.
Klaus's heavy armored infantry immediately changed their formation, and the maces on the edge of the shields and the long swords of Ron and his team formed a strangulating iron net. The Lombard defenders in the middle were squeezed so hard that their bones cracked. A Lombard knight's breastplate was dented under the double pressure. When his broken ribs pierced his heart, the blood foam sprayed from his mouth actually condensed into powdery mist in mid-air. Three soldiers of the Welsh Legion stepped on the corpse and jumped into the enemy group, harvesting the enemy's heads.
In the shadow of the arrow tower in the northwest corner, Count Terman used his teeth to tear off the bandage and wrap it around the wound on his left arm. The forty-year-old veteran suddenly coughed violently, and the bloody phlegm in his palms was mixed with stone chips. The bomb that shattered the arrow stack half an hour ago left a burning pain in his organs.
When he saw the heavy armored infantry phalanx he had trained himself disintegrating in the explosion, his gray-blue pupils shrank violently, and his sword-covered fingers almost crushed the wall.
At this time, a deserter was pinned to the spot by the old earl's eyes, and he took the initiative to put his neck on the guard's sword.
"Get my battle flag!"
Terman pulled off his scarlet cloak and wrapped it around his blood-oozing arm armor, and slammed the gold-inlaid shoulder armor against the stone wall. Just as the guard captain was about to dissuade him, the helmet inlaid with a lion's head visor had already been fastened to the gray-white temples. The giant sword swept across the wall and the sparks that moved forward illuminated the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. Three deserters who were retreating were beheaded on the spot. Hot plasma splashed on the breathing hole of the mask. He raised his foot and kicked the still twitching headless corpse off the city wall. His blood-stained iron boots made a sticky sound in the pool of blood.
Twenty steps away, two Welsh archer soldiers were preparing their bows and arrows. Their heads were split open by the hatchet thrown by Terman with his right hand, and their brains splattered greasy on the winch.
"In the name of our ancestors!"
The roaring golden lion on the heraldic flag pierced the smoke, and the remaining Lombard knights seemed to have been injected with a tonic. There was a certain rhythm to the sound of Terman's giant sword breaking through the air. When the two grenadiers were split into four pieces, including their armors, half of Weitz's face was covered with flying organs. Teerman suddenly turned around and swept across, the blade of the sword grazing Colin's barrel helmet, plowing a ravine on the surface of the stainless steel. A Welsh Legion crossbowman took the opportunity to take aim, but the opponent used the edge of his shield to cut off three fingers. The crossbow shot crookedly through his companion's knee. At this time, the city wall was turned into a millstone of flesh and blood. The soldiers of the Welsh Legion fought in groups of three with their backs facing each other. The front row of soldiers used hooks and sickles to pick out the lower edge of the enemy's shields, and the back row immediately responded with a volley of short crossbows.
A Lombard knight just raised his mace, and seven crossbow arrows penetrated into the gaps in his faceplate at the same time. The entire helmet suddenly turned into an iron hedgehog spurting blood. The veterans of the second company hummed miners' chants, used pickaxes to dig through the stone bricks, and pulled out the hiding enemy soldiers and the walls. An archer hiding in the shadow of the arrow tower, his legs were pinned down by the fallen stone pillar, and he watched helplessly as the Burgundians smashed his fingers one by one with iron drills.
"The Holy Spirit witnesses! We surrender...:"
A dozen defenders knelt down and begged for mercy, but the leader of the squadron smiled and grabbed the hammer. Amidst the muffled sound of his skull shattering, he spat into his palm, "The Third Squadron remembers that those wearing mail armor should hit the Tianling Cap, and those wearing plate armor should stab their armpits."
The eyeballs floating in the pool of blood were suddenly stepped on by combat boots. Thirty soldiers, armed with chisels and iron drills, dismantled the joints of the enemy's heavy armored infantry with precision like mining veins~
A knight whose arm armor was removed screamed crazily, and the soldiers directly inserted red-hot iron wedges into his teeth.
In the direction of the south gate, there was a sudden burst of inhuman screams. Three hundred defeated troops ran into the iron quinoa array arranged by Obote, and barbed fishing nets fell from the sky. The strong men of the reserve group wore iron-nailed boots and held copper-clad hammers, beating the enemy soldiers trapped in the net into pulp like rice cakes.
A Lombard flag-bearer's finger was pierced by iron strands, but he still held on to the broken flag. Obote raised the corners of his mouth, smiled, grabbed the tomahawk and nailed his elbow to the door panel.
Burning rosin poured down from the top of the city, and the defeated soldiers curled up into charred balls in the flames. The smell made even the most ferocious warriors have stomach cramps.
"Block the door for me!" Obote roared as he stepped on the pile of houses.
· Human barriers were erected in the ruins of the burning city gate. The defeated soldiers who wanted to break through the siege gradually piled up into a wall of corpses half a man high under the combined attack of arrows and hammers. Thick plasma flowed along the cracks in the rocks, forming red "streams".
At this time, a Lombard soldier who was pretending to be dead was just about to get up when three spears penetrated his back and was nailed to the pile of corpses. His twitching legs kicked over two burning quivers.
"Your Majesty, Count! The south gate is not yet~" The words of the guard baron were smashed between the teeth by the hilt of the sword.
Turman's blood-stained arm armor rattled, and the giant sword dragged traces of blood on the wall. "How can the glory of my family be ruined by me...
Weitz's stabbing sword suddenly struck from a tricky angle. Telman dodged sideways but still had his right arm tendon sliced open. The moment the giant sword fell from his hands and fell into the pile of houses, more than a dozen personal guards quickly formed a human wall.
These warriors who had received the training of death warriors actually bit the throats of the Welsh legionnaires with their teeth, and rolled down the city wall with the enemy in their arms.
One of the one-eyed guards stabbed his own thigh with a broken spear to secure his body, and gained precious life for his companions. Evacuation time.
Terman, who was covered in blood, was dragged towards the inner castle. He suddenly grabbed the collar of the guard and said, "Go to the armory and get those kerosene barrels with the golden lion emblem..." Before he could finish his words, Terman coughed violently, and the blood flowing from the corner of his mouth glowed dark red in the morning light.
Three guards used their bodies to block the pursuing arrows. One of them kept running twenty steps with his back full of crossbow arrows, and finally knelt down in front of the steps of the inner castle gate.
At this time, Tuba squatted on the dome beam inside the inner fort gate, showing his big yellow teeth and grinning. "These bastards are here~"
When Terman's guards broke open the oak door, Tuba blew a whistle, and immediately a bomb was thrown from the hole in the wall and fell into the crowd outside. The cast iron shell burst open in the firelight, and the broken iron slag hidden inside shot out in all directions. The four attendants were knocked to the ground by the blast of air, and the iron slag penetrated directly into their bodies.
"Happy!" Tuba laughed and jumped off the beam, piercing the collarbone of the fallen guard with a sword. Immediately afterwards, more than ten soldiers opened the fort gate, roared and rushed towards the defeated soldiers who had already jumped on their horses and ran towards the south gate...
Outside the south gate, Obote looked at the remaining cavalry disappearing into the mist, and slashed the tomahawk wolf into the cracks in the ground.
Turning around and looking back, the blood-eyed howling wolf heraldic flag on the city wall is unfurling in the light of the fire~
Standing on the city wall, Art stroked the sword marks at the crenellations, and Colin's hoarse laughter came from behind, "Brother Ron should be rewarded with a medal for frightening the enemy for his face~"
Weitz shook the bottomed wine bag, and suddenly poured the remaining wine into the pool of blood on the city wall. The turbid wine mixed with uncoagulated blood formed strange patterns in the cracks of the bricks.
A dying Lombard soldier suddenly twitched and crawled toward the bloodwine, and was nailed through the palm of his hand by Colin with his broken sword.
Ten steps away, under an arrow stack, three Welsh veterans were playing a kettle-throwing game with the enemy's mail hoops. The winner would get half a piece of moldy cheese.
On the mountain road half a mile away, Terman tore off the blood-stained family crest and threw it into a deep stream. When he looked back, the bloody wolf flags had filled every arrow tower.
While Terman's body kept shaking under the running of the horse, the wound on his right arm burst open again, and blood dripped down the saddle into intermittent red lines...
Hundreds of armored soldiers with swords on both sides of the wheat field not far ahead looked at the direction of Sauronburg through the cover of shrubs, waiting for the fish that escaped all the way south.
When a gust of cold wind blows by, the weeds on both sides of the business road make rustling sounds from time to time.
Hans, the company captain who was in charge of the final mission of the attack on Sauronburg, rubbed his stiff thighs and complained, "Those bastards couldn't have been wiped out by our people. How come there hasn't been any movement for a long time~"
For Hans, who did not participate in the siege, he was counting on killing those Lombard soldiers who had the chance to escape here, and adding another glory to himself.
Hans sighed softly, turned around and lay down.
"They are coming!"
At this time, a large group of people suddenly appeared at the corner of the mountain pass not far away—.