Chapter 162: Long Bridge, Bloody Road! (Part )

After the development of the Hundred Years' War, the mercenary industry has developed into a mature service industry. The combat effectiveness of mercenary infantry exceeds that of night guards and is similar to that of armored sergeants.

Apart from not having extraordinary martial arts, war horses and plate armor, they basically all have the first or second stage of breathing techniques.

At the end of the road along the river, silver armor flashed in the cold moonlight, and more than a hundred knights riding tall horses and wearing Milanese plate armor were slowly approaching.

Their helmets were decorated with long blue tail feathers that swayed as their horses rose and fell.

"Cross the river! Speed ​​up and cross the river!"

Horn immediately gave the order, and at this moment the sound of a bowstring being plucked could be heard in the darkness.

Colton looked up and saw a black shadow passing over his head and falling into the crowd behind him like a meteor. Strange blood flowers bloomed and seven or eight people fell on the bridge.

The dust on the iron chains was shaken up, and people fell from the edge of the wooden bridge from time to time, falling into the snow-white water with a string of blood drops, dyeing the water red in an instant.

When the people behind continued to step onto the wooden bridge, they saw scarlet bloodstains on the wooden boards, but they still did not stop.

Waves of crossbow arrows flew into the air and landed on the crowded bridge. When the following Saviors stepped onto the wooden bridge, they saw dozens of corpses lying on the bridge in front of them.

But they still didn't stop, no one stopped.

Even their steps became more and more firm, and those who fell to the ground would hand the remaining weapons in their hands to passers-by.

There were even those who were seriously injured and on the verge of death, and they simply rolled off the long bridge into the water to make way for those behind them.

This is not the bridge of revenge for one person, it is the bridge of revenge for everyone.

Frisiska, who was watching the battle, frowned: "What's going on? Aren't they going to collapse yet?"

You know, about 500 people had crossed the bridge, and from the time they got off the bridge to the street corner, no less than 40 people were killed or injured. According to past experience, the bridge should have collapsed long ago.

A faint shout reached Frisiska's ears.

"What are they shouting?"

"Seems to be……"

The sturdy long bridge swayed with the waves amid the singing and footsteps; the noisy shouts of the refugees became clearer and more orderly.

Stepping on the blood-stained wooden board, Colton felt the world in front of him so clear for the first time.

"Move this way, move that way, where can a poor man survive?"

As the shouting became louder and louder, Colton also shouted at the same time, his voice breaking.

"Kill the devils, kill the demons, I won't live until they die!"

Shouting at the top of his lungs, Colton leveled the spear in his hand.

Beside him was a row of silver spears. They were panting, and for the first time, their faces, which had been numb for decades, were filled with rage.

"If you don't treat people as equals, you should kill them!"

"kill!!!"

Colton had run by with a shoulder pole and a pitchfork countless times, but only this time did he run so fast and so resolutely with a spear in hand.

The clothes of the refugees around them kept rubbing against each other, and their straw sandals stepped over the pebbles on the ground. Hundreds of refugees marched forward madly with their spears in hand.

Opposite them was a horizontal array of mercenaries lined up along the street.

The spears gleamed coldly in the moonlight. They trembled as the refugees staggered, and stabbed rapidly at the mercenaries.

The nearly two thousand mercenaries on the opposite side showed grim smiles. They put down their spears and waited for the arrival of the refugees.

They had seen the charge of these refugees.

These mobs would often rush forward shouting loudly, and when they reached the front, they would stop out of fear and then be pushed by the refugees charging behind them, bumping into their own spears.

At that point, just shouting the famous phrase "Farmer, the guards are coming" would be enough to turn a battle into a chase.

They have seen such scenes countless times, and today is no exception.

The sharp spear was getting closer and closer, and he could already see the cold light of the spear tip.

"Farmer, guard... cluck, cluck."

The tip of the gun pierced his throat, penetrated the cartilage, and came out from the diagonal back of his neck. The moment the gun was retracted, it brought up a cloud of blood mist and foam.

Opposite him, Colton’s shoulder was pierced by his spear, and he gritted his teeth and roared: “Guards, the farmer is coming!”

Beside Colton, the refugees were pierced through the body, and their spears also pierced into the bodies of the mercenaries.

Puffs of blood mist exploded, bile, cartilage, blood vessels and throats hung on people's bodies or flowed to the ground with blood. The mercenaries who were caught off guard and broke into the formation were instantly engaged in close combat with the refugees.

"Devil's running dog! Die!" Colton was like a madman. The tip of the gun scratched his forehead and blood soaked his face, but he didn't stop at all.

Picking up the short flail at his waist, he smashed it with all his strength towards the mercenary in front of him.

The mercenary raised the copper round shield in his hand, but the flail connected by the chain passed over the top of the shield, drew an arc and hit him directly on the forehead.

The exploded eyeball sprayed grayish-white mucus, which splashed onto the shield, and the mercenary fell to the ground stiffly.

But as soon as Colton turned around, another tall mercenary rushed up with a ferocious look on his face.

The huge force knocked Colton off balance and he sat on the ground.

He looked up and saw the mercenary holding a short axe high up. He wanted to roll over to avoid it, but his right hand was stepped on by his teammate.

The cold light fell, but did not fall on Colton's head, but flew out horizontally.

"what--"

It was a farmer. He rushed up with red eyes and knocked down the mercenary.

He fell to the ground, and before he could feel the pain, the mercenary immediately took out a dagger and stabbed it into the farmer's chest, and the farmer's front was soaked in blood. At the same time, the farmer took out a black short sword and stabbed the mercenary's neck with it, and the trachea blew blood foam everywhere.

Two strangers hugged each other and died on the battlefield at the same time.

The next second, a Fran mercenary was tripped by two corpses, and the spear in his hand fell to the ground with a clang. The farmer in front of him picked up a pitchfork and pierced his throat.

"If you don't treat people as equals, you should kill them!"

Colton grabbed the black dagger, held it high and killed the three mercenaries who were besieging the refugees.

"Swordsmen and shieldmen, armored sergeants, move to the front row, move to the front row." The mercenary leader, who was wearing a neck armor and a long-tailed helmet, was sweating profusely. He climbed onto the windowsill of the civilian house regardless of anything and shouted to the people behind him.

When the sword and shield soldiers holding short weapons and the armored sergeants arrived at the scene, the melee gradually stopped, and the mercenaries re-formed into a square formation under the shouts of the team leaders.

After all, today might be the only time in these refugees' lives that they touch a spear. They can't even hold the spear steadily, but they are facing mercenaries who have been trained for two and a half years.

As the regular gun array was formed, the situation gradually changed. A large number of refugees fell down and landed heavily on the blood-stained soil.

Marching in neat steps, the mercenaries finally reorganized their formation and charged towards the refugees step by step.

Their first row consisted of longsword and short-axe fighters wearing armor and holding shields. The previous desperate charge and melee were no longer effective.

At Victor's shout, the refugees retreated to the river and tried to re-form their guns.

No matter how determined they were, they were forced to retreat step by step by the three rows of gleaming guns.

"Hold steady, hold steady, keep the gun level!" Victor shouted loudly as he retreated.

Beside him, Rudilo was hit in the temple by his own people's guns because of his recklessness. He fell to the side of the road and his life or death was unknown.

Victor took another step back, but almost missed a step. He looked back and saw many corpses floating on the flowing canal.

The mercenaries' gun formation was impenetrable. He organized several leaping soldiers to roll on the ground and charge, but they were all blocked by the armored sergeants.

The refugees in the front row kept falling down. They couldn't break through the formation no matter what. They could only use their lives to stop their progress.

The last row of refugees has reached the edge of the river.

Is this the end? Victor took a deep breath, clenched the spear in his hand, and walked towards the first row. Even if he died, he didn't want to be drowned!

Victor walked forward step by step to the second row. Before he could straighten his spear, a deafening roar rang in the ears of the refugees in the first row.

"The Lord curses you! You are the devil's lackeys!"

That's? It's old Cosset!
Victor could hardly believe his eyes. Old Cosse's outfit today was very different from usual, and his face no longer had the embarrassed and honest look it had before.

He jumped down from the roof with his upper body naked. The broken cross pendant on his fat chest fluttered in the wind. His face was as hideous as a devil from hell, and his eyes were red as fire.

"what--"

With bloodshot eyes, Kose let out an earth-shaking roar, and as he jumped off the roof, he stretched out his strong arms and grasped two spears, and his right hand also grasped three spears.

He stomped his feet on the ground, the fat on his cheeks trembling with his body, and Kose's eyes almost popped out of their sockets as he looked at the mercenaries.

The mercenary on the opposite side had a grim face and was grabbing the spear with all his might, trying to pull the spear back or pull Cosse over.

But no matter how hard the hired spearmen twitched, they could not pull back the original spear even a little bit, and Cosse's fierce face was screaming: "Come on, come on, you accomplices of the murderer!"

Using his feet to exert force, veins popped out on Kose's face, and he even pulled two mercenaries away from the gun formation, causing them to stagger.

With his eyes bare, Victor shouted anxiously, "What are you looking at? Stab!"

Almost at the same time, four spears pierced out from the sides of Cosse's shoulders and arms, and instantly pierced into the thighs and throats of the spearmen on the opposite side.

When the gun was pulled out, blood spurted out from the wound, scarlet tendons and flesh were exposed to the air, and the mercenaries fell directly to the ground.

"Hahahahahaha." Seeing the mercenary infantry fall in front of him, Kose laughed wildly.

He let go of the spears, pulled out two butcher knives from his waist, and rushed towards the gap in the gun formation. The mercenaries on both sides immediately tried to fill the position.

Before the Fran mercenary wearing a disc-shaped hat could stand firm, Cosse threw the butcher knife in his hand, which pierced directly into the mercenary's chest and mixed up his internal organs.

He bent his body to avoid the spear's thrust, jumped forward, grabbed the hilt of the knife, kicked the mercenary in the stomach, and pulled out the butcher knife.

Holding another knife in one hand, he pushed away the dagger of the mercenary beside him, then rushed into the enemy's arms, stabbed the butcher knife into the mercenary's abdomen, twisted and pulled hard, and a string of intestines was brought out.

Seeing a gap in the gun array, the following Savior Army leapers and spearmen immediately rushed towards the gap.

The mercenary army's formation was in an uproar. Soldiers on the side and left immediately tried to rush forward to fill the gap, but the gap was filled by the Savior Army's spearmen who rushed over.

This immediately triggered a chain reaction. The entire gun formation seemed to be torn open. The infantry rushed forward to repair it, but the hole became bigger and a local bloody melee began again.

The original formation began to become jagged during the constant movement, and even more gaps appeared. The neat formation of the mercenaries was constantly retreating under the pressure of the refugees.

The most terrifying thing was that some of the Fran mercenaries could not endure such a fierce battle intensity and began to gradually disappear into the darkness of the alley.

They have never fought this kind of war in their lives. Why would they risk their lives for a few dozen dinars a month?
As the force grew stronger, the Salvation Army gradually pushed them back from the riverside at the bridge to the alley at the intersection.

"Lord Frisisca, we, we need support." The mercenary leader ran to the knights breathlessly.

"How dare you ask for support after being beaten like this!" Frisiska cursed angrily as she whipped the mercenary leader who came to ask for help.

"It's not that we don't work hard, but the refugees have magic skills and they are not afraid of death."

"You bunch of losers." Frisiska pulled down the visor of his helmet in frustration.

He had originally thought that he could lure out the old camp of the short-haired thieves to fight, but these infantrymen were actually suppressed by a group of ordinary refugees, and they even had the nerve to send for help.

However, the current situation really requires support. If the refugees are allowed to push the front line into the alleys and paths, their impact will be restricted by clotheslines, porches and pits, and will be far less effective than it is now.

"Warriors, charge with me!"

(End of this chapter)