The Origin of Arcane

Throw a spear!

Now it was the turn of the city gate guards to counterattack. A half-meter-long spear fell down in a parabola. The number was not large, but it caused the biggest casualties to the night raiders since the night raid.

The lethality of this medium and short-range throwing weapon is not comparable to that of bows and arrows. Even a heavy armored warrior is like paper in front of it, not to mention the light armor of the night raider. The big hole, if you don't die, you will lose your combat effectiveness on the spot, and the possibility of surviving is almost zero.

This level of casualties obviously has no way to shake the firm will of the night raiders. No one hesitates and rushes madly.

Attack!

Although the wild boar Alves was a bit stubborn in handling things, he was quite keen on grasping the opportunity of the war. When the night raider was still twenty or thirty steps away from his army formation, he ignored the still dense rain of arrows above his head and gave the order to take the initiative to attack. .

Waiting for work at leisure depends on the situation.

If the hundred guards he led were spearmen, he would definitely deploy a dense array of long spears. Not to mention a group of infantry in light armor rushing across, even a group of knights would have to pay a heavy price.

If he was leading a group of pure shield soldiers, he would lay down a shield formation like an iron bucket, and let the opponent's head be broken before he took the initiative to attack.

But now he is leading a guard who is good at close combat, especially when he has an absolute advantage in equipment, so he can't just wait for the opponent to charge, and take the initiative to make full use of his advantages come out.

When the two collide, it seems that the earth is trembling. It is not only the collision between the body, the weapon, and the armor, but also the collision between two wills.

The hoarse roar, the screeching of the sword piercing the bone, and the splashing of hot blood... constituted the most cruel scene of war. The battle entered a fierce battle just after it started.

The one-sided massacre imagined by the boar Alves did not appear, and the night raiders seemed to be desperately fighting. When the actual hand-to-hand combat, they did not exchange their lives for their lives, but stood around them like monkeys. spin around.

The short sword and dagger have no tricks, but they are extremely slippery and sharp. They are designed to drill into the gaps in the armor, and these places are often the key points of the body's joints. Once they are hit, even if they are not fatal, their combat effectiveness will be greatly reduced.

Regardless of the others, the boar felt it himself. It had already been poked three times on the neck, four times on the left arm and elbow, and two times on the right shoulder.

If it weren't for the excellent workmanship of the chain mail inside, he would have crawled on the ground by now. If so, the blow on his left hind leg caused him to see blood. The advantage of equipment has turned into their disadvantage - there is no way to compare with their opponents in flexibility.

Ever since he was able to hold a sword, the wild boar has been fighting. He has seen countless battles before and after. This is the first time he has experienced this kind of aggrieved fighting style. He really wants to yell loudly. Is it a war? Or a monkey? Could this group of guys be a group of thieves? How is it so flexible?

The boar Alves was dissatisfied with his results because his expectations were too high at the beginning. In fact, the night raiders suffered heavy deaths, and their flexible tactics were to dance on the tip of their knives.

In other words, their fault tolerance rate was far lower than that of the city gate guards in heavy armor. The opponent was still alive and kicking after several stabs, and they might lose their lives once they missed.

Assemble!

Alves has changed his tactics. Since you guys are good at flexibility, I will compress your space of movement. I see what tricks you can do with your jumps?

cheep... cheep... cheep...

The successive sharp wooden whistles were very clear in the dawn, and the night has faded before you know it, and the sky has begun to light up. For Bastille, the situation has not only not improved, but has become worse. The thick morning fog makes visibility difficult. It became lower, and in the blink of an eye, the night raiders who had just fought with them all disappeared in the thick fog.

The reassembled city gate garrison looked at each other in blank dismay. The battle was really inexplicable. Now that they know that their enemy is the Andes mountain people, how many enemies are there?

Which village leader is in command?

To what extent was the city wall lost?

How did the opponent bypass the army led by the city lord?

Or has something happened to the army led by the city lord?

They were completely unaware of these situations, and it was like a huge burden weighing on them, causing them to feel uneasy.

um... um... um...

A familiar sound came from the air again, the sound of an arrow piercing the air. This time, without the command of his captain, those with shields consciously raised their shields, and those without shields also put on a defensive posture.

Although he muttered in his heart to repeat the old tricks, no one dared to be negligent, because those who dared to do so would have already turned into a pile of bones, and they could not be too careful on the battlefield.

Puff puff……

The feeling after the bow and arrow hit was obviously different this time. It wasn't the sound of being blocked by various armors, but the sound of shooting into the flesh. After a short pause, there were miserable howls one after another.

Look for cover, everyone look for cover, this is a heavy bow, this is a fucking heavy bow!

Can't defend, can't defend, ordinary heavy armor can't defend...uh...

Don't mess up, don't mess up, shield wall, form shield wall...

It's useless, it's useless, wooden shields can't defend, wooden shields can't defend!

The entire city gate garrison was in a mess, and some wanted to form a shield wall, but the iron-and-wooden shield was no different from paper in front of the heavy armor-piercing arrows thicker than a thumb. The shield was broken and shot through There are many arms, the defense is slightly deformed, and the heavy arrows following behind him will nail him to the original position.

Those who tried to escape died faster. All standard armors paid much more attention to the defense in front of the body than the latter, exposing their weakest places. Isn't this self-defeating?

This is no longer a rain of arrows, but a curtain of arrows. The number of heavy arrows falling per square meter is no less than twenty.

The curtain of arrows didn't last long, only thirty seconds, but for the people in the curtain of arrows, it was so long, and those who could still stand looked around in a daze. A dead body with sticks, or a dead body full of arrows, as if he was the only living person left on the entire battlefield.

It's over! Kleist the fox closed his eyes in pain, he hurried on, and he actually witnessed the destruction of the city gate garrison.

Although he knew that due to the fact that the viewing angle was blocked by the thick fog, the number of surviving city gate guards was more than expected. After all, many of them were wearing double armor. There is still a long way to go to break the double armor.

But he knew that there was no room for recovery, because the courage of the city gate garrison had been broken.

A soldier without courage, no matter how strong his body is, no matter how thick his armor is, he is not much better than an ordinary farmer.

What's more, the enemy's goal has been achieved-the city gate has been opened.

Countless tall figures broke through the white mist, roaring and rushing in like wild warriors rushing out of the flood.

Kleist saw with his own eyes that the fighting power was infinitely approaching. The great knight yervet, the strong man who rushed to the front, only supported three moves before he was squeezed into pieces by the opponent's big fan-like hands, including the helmet and head. The rotten watermelon completely collapsed the city gate garrison whose morale was already at a low point. The surviving soldiers had only one thought in their minds—to run.

The farther the better, the gates cannot be defended, the castle cannot be defended, the Bastille cannot be defended.

Mckey the Skull Crusher!

The Violent Mountain People Legion!

After recognizing the other party's identity, Kleist the Fox didn't stop for a second, turned his head and walked away. The direction he was going was not the inner castle of Bastille, but another city gate of Bastille.

If he returns to the inner fort to organize the defense now, there may be a 40% to 50% chance of blocking the opponent from the inner fort, and when the time comes to flank the old Bolton inside and outside, he may be able to defeat the opponent.

But there are too many uncertain factors here. Let alone whether it can be blocked, it is still unknown whether old Bolton is still safe and sound!

Because they were facing a completely unknown enemy this time, although they had already seen McKee the Skull Crusher, Kleist the Fox did not think that the other party was the supreme commander of the night attack.

Because that reckless man didn't have that many brains, and planned such a meticulous night attack plan, even the reaction of the city gate garrison was calculated by the other party. If it was him who planned it, it would only be to this extent.

Once they entered the inner castle, if they risked their lives, they had to either guard against it or bury it with the castle. With McGee the Skull Crusher, they had no way to surrender.

If Eriksson the Bull was here, he would return to Inner Castle without hesitation and live and die with the city.

This is the biggest difference between the two. In the eyes of Kleist the Fox, his life is above all else. No one in this world is worthy of his precious life, not his family, not his father, let alone Say a slave trader.

Many things are contagious, such as colds, plagues, and confidence.

The soldiers collapsed even faster when they saw that the current supreme officer of the Bastille, Sir Crest, ran faster than a rabbit and rushed out of the Bastille without looking back.

I don't know whether it was pure kindness, or looking for a reason for my escape, the soldiers who fled shouted as they ran.

In the beginning, it was just shouting the city gate is broken, then somehow it became the castle is broken, and then it became the Bastille is broken. Finally, under the guidance of caring people, a new slogan was added The army led by Lord Bolton fell into an ambush, and the whole army was wiped out, and Bolton was shot dead.

It would take no time for people to see through such completely invisible rumors, but in the current chaos, there are many people who believe in this, and the smarter they are, the more firmly they believe.

Because this is an excellent reason for them to run for their lives. As for those who are not smart, the smart people believe it, so why don't they believe it?

The morning mist became the best cover for the night raiders. They shuttled and swept through the streets, as if they were everywhere, and their numbers became more and more numerous.