Chapter 333: Battle of Moncruz (IV)

Standing on a makeshift watchtower, Helwin looked toward the three-story fortress in the distance.

The fortress consists of five protruding corners and is discontinuous, unlike the normal connected city walls.

In the patrol passage on the fortress, soldiers wearing uniform uniforms, holding spears and holy guns, patrolled back and forth on the wall.

Each protruding corner has a special gun platform to facilitate firing without blind spots.

The nearly two-meter-high wall is extremely thick, and it is unknown what material it is made of.

Every time he thought of this, Helwin couldn't help smacking his lips.

After yesterday's defeat, although he believed that Alex's interference was a factor, the real reason was the solid wall and the continuous shooting.

Helwin's face showed confusion mixed with anger, he still remembered the scene.

On the khaki wall, there were dense shooting holes, with iron pipes sticking out, and sharp whistling sounds could be heard from time to time.

Even though the brave knights had braved the devil's wind and rushed to the front of the wall, they still could not break through their thick wall.

Amid the flying lead bullets, the brave warriors at the front fell one by one, while the cowards fled back.

Touching the wound on his stomach that was oozing blood, Helwin finally understood now why the knights stationed on the border had such a strange attitude towards the clockwork guns.

The key to the knights' dominance on the battlefield is that they can maintain agility and abundant physical strength even in heavy armor.

They can run without breaking the defense and their physical strength will not be exhausted, which makes them invincible most of the time even when facing the human wave tactics of countless peasants.

This noble margin is the source of knights' confidence when facing farmers.

But since the clockwork gun came out, everything has changed.

Not only can it penetrate armor, it is also a long-range weapon, causing the knight's first two advantages to be almost completely wiped out in field battles.

The last advantage is only physical strength, but the Saviors do not need to consume too much physical strength to use clockwork guns. When the holy power is used up, just pick up the armed sword and start fighting.

But this does not mean that they are completely helpless. Helwin slowly retracted his gaze and saw that on both sides of the earthen platform, thousands of infantrymen were slowly passing by.

They had no uniform military uniforms, and their clothes were tattered, patchwork pieces of colorful fabrics fluttering in the wind, looking disorganized.

Among them were more than 2000 night guards and armored sergeants, as well as more than 2000 ordinary farmers of all ages who were pulled from the fields to the battlefield.

The gloomy sky seemed like it would bring downpours of rain at any moment, and the low-hanging clouds were just like their mood, depressing and sultry.

"I don't know what your devilish stuff consumes, maybe blood or life span, but it can't be infinite!"

Helwin raised his head confidently, and decided that it would be better to let the devil's wind blow on these lowly peasants than on the noble knights.

Helwin drew his knight's sword and pointed it forward: "Charge!"

…………

The shaking heads were pressed together in a sticky mass, and sharpened sticks, stone hammers, and axes were waved along with rag flags.

Just looking at the situation, I would have thought it was back in the primitive age.

Deklama and the village heads hid on a small slope closest to the second-floor fortress, and they could just see through the top of the wall the thousands of peasant soldiers charging towards them in two groups.

They crowded together like a flood, with armored soldiers holding the line, the night guards pushing the peasant soldiers in the back row, and the peasant soldiers in the back row pushing the peasant soldiers in the front row.

Deklama and several village leaders, who were on the battlefield for the first time, were so terrified that they couldn't speak. They huddled together like quails and didn't even dare to stick their heads out to look.

They usually just watched fighting from afar on the edge of the battlefield, nothing like the excitement of today, face to face.

Deklama was slightly better. He knew that the battlefield was changing rapidly and the chance to escape would only come once or twice.

No matter how scared you are, you still have to stare and watch.

The ferociously running peasant soldiers, waving their weapons, as well as the armored sergeants and night guards who were at the forefront, seemed to be aiming at him when they rushed over.

The chaotic and heavy footsteps were getting closer, and Deklama breathed heavily, expressing the fear and tension in his heart.

"Prepare!"

"aim!"

Commands were sounded one after another, and Deklama heard them clearly. It was the division commander who had ordered him to be dragged away.

Beside the division captain, fifty holy gunners holding clockwork guns placed the gun barrels on the inverted triangle-shaped shooting gaps.

They tilted their heads, narrowed one eye, and aimed at the peasant soldiers who were rushing towards them.

Although the trajectory of the clockwork gun is very random, the holy gunners will still aim, at least to ensure that it does not deviate too far.

"emission!"

"Praise the Holy Wind!"

Amid the orderly sounds of praising the Holy Wind, Deklama dully watched as a strong wind actually blew up near the Holy Gunner, causing everyone's hair and nearby grass leaves to sway.

More than ten of the front row of farmers charging towards them fell down in an instant.

Their fallen bodies even tripped their teammates behind them, and a group of people fell like dominoes.

In the dust and straw sandals, five peasant soldiers were soon trampled to death by their teammates.

Amid the cries of the peasant soldiers, Deklama could clearly see the movements of the Holy Gunners.

It was just an iron pipe, an iron box and a wooden support. It didn't even have a bowstring, just two twists on the small box.

But the sound, light, and killing were like a cursed wind blown by the devil. "Devil's wind..." Drachma muttered, and then he immediately slapped himself on the mouth, "It should be the holy wind! It's the holy wind! Never learn your lesson."

After firing the first shot, the Holy Gunners took a step back in unison, making way for the spearmen in the back row, and began to reload the Holy Guns.

Extending their spears from the parapet, the warrior monks raised their spears in unison and aimed them at the peasant soldiers who were charging at them.

But before their gun tips could be stained with blood, the sound of gunshots came from the second floor above their heads.

Flowers of blood bloomed from the bodies of the peasant soldiers again. The cries and tragic casualties (more than 30) instantly made the remaining thousands of peasant soldiers lose their desire to fight.

They cried and screamed as they went around from both sides and ran towards the back.

"Who told you to fire the gun!" Momli's stern roar came from the second floor, "No firing of guns on the second floor, save your holy power. If anyone dares to use it again, I will be rude to you."

Looking at the scattered peasant soldiers, a village headman asked Deklama hopefully, "Is it over?"

Deklama shook his head painfully: "Not yet. How could the Knight give up after just one attack?"

Sure enough, just as Deklama said, less than fifteen minutes later, the second group of hundreds of peasant soldiers, driven by knights and armored sergeants, changed direction and rushed towards the Moncruz Fortress.

Before they could get close, they were beaten back by the Holy Gunners coming from another direction.

Before the Holy Gunners had a chance to rest, the third batch of hundreds of peasant soldiers had already launched a charge, and the previously scattered peasant soldiers were gathered together again, preparing to launch a fourth round of attack.

The fifth round, the sixth round, the seventh round...

Just as Helwin had expected, the Saviors were resilient because of the fortress, but also because they were restrained by the fortress, they were unable to pursue or counterattack, and could not expand their victory.

If they dared to launch a counterattack, the extraordinary knights who were in charge would rush out immediately and slaughter the warrior monks who had lost the protection of the fortress.

After wave after wave of attacks, the Savior Army fell into a passive state and began to feel helpless.

Most of the holy musketeers only had one or two rounds of holy power left. They sat on the edge of the slope, closed their eyes, meditated and rested. The front line was replaced by the close-combat spearmen.

“Puff—Sizzle—”

The sound of spears piercing flesh and blood continued to ring out, and corpses fell from the castle wall one after another.

He gripped the gun tightly, rotated his right hand and thrust it forward, piercing the farmer's throat which was not protected at all, and then pulled out the gun lightly to recover.

The Salvation Army spearmen thrust out and retracted like machines, thrusting out and retracting...

Everyone is like a puppet produced according to the design of the "Soldier's Bible", taking lives in an assembly line manner.

"Hey, what are you doing!" In the originally neat assassination team, a new recruit who had been training for two and a half months was pushed down by his companions and complained loudly.

"Hurry up, hurry up!" The night watchman hiding among the peasant soldiers was overjoyed. He stepped on the peasant soldiers' shoulders and suddenly climbed over the high wall. He turned sideways and swung his sword at the holy musketeer next to him.

The Holy Gunner raised his clockwork rifle to block, sparks flew, he took two steps back, fell to the ground, and the barrel of the gun broke.

The night watchman did not pursue him, but swung his sword and, taking advantage of the close combat, killed the new spearman and cleared a space around the gap.

Behind him, seven or eight night guards climbed over the high wall, wielding half-swords and round shields, and hacked at the surrounding warrior monks.

In an instant, seven or eight pikemen and holy musketeers fell, and the surrounding division commanders dismounted and rushed over with their pikemen and holy musketeers.

But the passage was narrow after all, and there was some chaos in the area, and they were unable to organize a defense line in time.

"boom!"

It was a retired lame old soldier who picked up the holy gun and shot the night guard who was killing the engineers in the head.

The companion of the night guard who had just climbed up the wall behind him suddenly fell to the ground with blood spurting out of his forehead.

"Damn it!" The night guard was startled, turned around, and rushed towards the lame old soldier with a ferocious face.

"Holy Father!"

Throwing away his clockwork gun and drawing his arming sword, the old soldier continued to limp forward, shouting loudly despite his limping leg.

"Throw down!"

At the critical moment, Jourdain's shout rang out from behind him, and the old soldier fell to the ground involuntarily.

The sound of lead bullets being fired continuously was heard, and several night guards who were rushing towards him had several bloody holes on their bodies before they could react.

Next to Jourdan stood a dozen Holy Gunners who had just been called up.

While the enemy was still in a state of shock and fear, several spearmen led by the division captains finally broke away from the chaos and rushed forward.

They rushed forward two steps, using inertia to launch their spears out. The spear blades rubbed against the chain mail and instantly penetrated the bodies of the remaining night watch guards.

Blood flowed from the corners of their mouths and chests. The few remaining guards on night duty made an inexplicable "gurgling" sound in their throats and fell to the ground on their backs.

"Clean up the bodies, medics, drag the wounded away and fill the positions! What are you looking at?" Jourdan gave orders to the division captains around him, frowning as he walked. This was the second time that the night guards had broken through.

"Brother Jourdan!"

Zhu Erdan raised his head and saw Momli sticking half of his body out from the second floor: "Brother Zhu Erdan, let's switch shifts!"

"Can you make it?"

"I'll fire a few shots to drive them back, and then we'll switch positions. The peasant soldiers are also human beings, they can't keep charging."

"Okay!" Jourdan blew the whistle without much hesitation.

"Fight off this wave! Change shift! Change shift!"

(End of this chapter)