I was a knight in the Middle Ages

Chapter 468: The defeated enemy, no distinction between friend and foe

The night is dark and the iron hooves are like thunder.

When the blood-soaked bandit knight finally crashed into the three chariots emitting cold light, the valley behind suddenly exploded with more intense fighting sounds.

The wheels forged from fine iron rolled over the gravel and slowly retreated under the cover of the iron wall formed by the dwarf warriors. The sparks from the metal collision drew strange arcs in the air.

The bandits mistook this for the enemy's rout, and the one-eyed leader brandished his bloody battle axe and roared: "Flatten these iron lumps!"

Darkness engulfed the battlefield like a tide. Three hundred bandit knights drove their war horses and pushed the chariots forward like a black torrent.

When they tried to disperse their formation, the sound of hooves suddenly became chaotic - the ground on both sides was full of traps, and the uneven chevaux de frise stakes were like ferocious fangs, shining coldly in the moonlight.

The knights' heavy armor hit the chevaux de frise one after another, the horses neighed miserably, and the sound of breaking metal and screaming intertwined into a hellish melody.

Only the 34-meter-wide passage directly ahead was unobstructed; this narrow "way out" was like a carefully woven noose.

The bandits charged forward with gritted teeth, and when the rugged outline of the Eagle's Beak Cliff finally emerged before their eyes, they were pleasantly surprised to find that the road ahead was suddenly clear - a hundred-meter-wide road led directly to the top of the mountain, wide enough for them to launch their proud cone-shaped charge formation.

However, five cold lights pierced the twilight at this moment, and five war machines equipped with rotating winches emerged like giant beasts. The buzzing of crossbows and the sound of breaking through the air instantly drowned out the cheers.

"Kill!" The roar of the vanguard officer Andilo was torn apart by the feather arrows.

Countless arrows flew through the air in the darkness, and the knights who were hit first fell to the ground with their horses.

Alpha's tactics showed their power at this moment: the elite of the Berserker Knights targeted the enemy commander, the dwarf spearmen aimed at the gaps in the wrist guards, and the elven rangers shot at the throat.

Each arrow carried a deadly edge, screams and wails echoed through the valley, and fear spread quickly like a plague.

"General, the encirclement can no longer be sustained!" Mashu gripped the blood-stained reins tightly, watching the bandits pouring in.

Alpha narrowed his eyes, and the battlefield gradually became clear on his tactical map: two thousand bandit knights had all fallen into the trap.

"Notify Baruch to close the valley entrance!" Alpha's voice was deep and firm, "Quinte will break through from the center, and the crossbows are ready to fire!"

Before he could finish his words, a deafening explosion tore through the night sky.

The black gunpowder buried at the entrance of the valley exploded with a loud bang, and countless huge rocks rolled down like raindrops, instantly blocking the retreat route.

Thousands of torches suddenly lit up on both sides of the mountain roads, and dozens of specially built chariots slowly drove out.

The huge wooden shield on the shaft was covered with holes, and each hole contained a heavy crossbow ready to fire.

&34;Release!&34;

In an instant, the whistling sound of thousands of arrows was deafening.

The dull sound of heavy crossbows piercing armor, the cries of dying war horses, and the desperate screams of soldiers intertwined together.

The open space under the Eagle's Beak Cliff instantly turned into a purgatory on earth. Dense groups of bandits and knights fell down in the rain of arrows like harvested wheat.

After a brief rain of arrows, the chariot began to move forward slowly.

Amid the creaking sound of the capstan, the sharp chain blades spun and tore through the air.

When the violent knights rushed out from the woods on both sides like tigers, the bandits' fighting spirit completely collapsed.

In less than ten minutes, the survivors dropped their weapons and raised their hands tremblingly - the once invincible Knights were now like fish on a chopping board, at the mercy of others.

Da Gama's soldiers quickly carried out the aftermath work. They skillfully collected weapons, calmed the horses, and properly placed the injured bandit knights.

In the distance, Alpha looked at the battlefield which was gradually calming down, and the evening breeze blew the smoke across his cold face.

This carefully planned ambush not only crushed the enemy's offensive, but also sounded a trembling alarm for the villains across the entire continent.

In the valley filled with blood mist, this thrilling fight lasted only two hours.

As the glow of sunrise cast its last dark red on the Eagle's Beak Cliff, the bandits at the valley entrance stepped on the bodies of their companions and tried to climb over the collapsed rocks to break out.

Sharp spears pierced out from behind the ruins like poisonous snakes, forcing them to retreat again and again.

Broken weapons and shattered shields were mixed among the rubble, forming an insurmountable barrier of flesh and blood.

"Listen carefully! Anyone who dares to provoke the Alpha Knights will die!"

With a loud bang, a shaky wooden slide suddenly appeared across the hillside.

Before the bandits could react, the cold spring water poured down, carrying a black shadow with it.

At the end of the slide, dozens of bodies rolled down like rags, and the wailing sounds were particularly mournful in the twilight.

The knights below instinctively thrust their spears forward. The dull sound of metal entering flesh and the screams intertwined, instantly dyeing the gravel beneath their feet red.

"Wait! These...these are our own people!" a sharp-eyed knight suddenly exclaimed.

In the dim light, the body rolling down the slide had no standard armor, the exposed wounds were still oozing blood, and there was no weapon in the hands.

When another batch of wounded slid down like a tide, and the piled up wounded almost blocked the entrance of the valley, the bandits finally realized that this was a carefully designed psychological warfare by the enemy.

Alpha's strategy hit the mark.

Every painful groan from the seriously injured soldiers who were thrown back undermined the bandits' fighting spirit.

Their hands began to tremble as they moved the wounded. Looking at the endless stream of "gifts", fear crawled into their hearts like a poisonous snake: If they didn't rescue them, who would be abandoned next?

The veins on the centurion's hand that was holding the hilt of the sword bulged, and he finally gritted his teeth and ordered: "Send someone to inform the commander-in-chief, and do our best to treat him!"

At the same time, the muffled sound of gears turning was heard from deep within the battlefield.

The remaining dwarf warriors were quietly dismantling the simple chariots on the mountain road. They skillfully put away the crossbows and rearranged the rolling logs with hidden barbs.

Every loose rock became a deadly trap, and every bush concealed a poisoned crossbow.

While the bandits were still scrambling to treat the wounded, Alpha's main force had quietly moved to a safer pass under the cover of night.

This seemingly merciful "return" was actually a deadly delaying tactic to buy time for evacuation.

The morning light dyed the canyon blood red, and the smell of blood mixed with gunpowder smoke surged in the air.

The soldiers on the stretchers were like broken dolls, thrown away casually in the mountains and forests. The blood-stained bandages had long dried up, and flies were hovering over the festering wounds.

As Captain Stanford's military boots rolled over the gravel on the ground, the metal badge shone coldly in the twilight, and the soldiers behind him involuntarily took a half step back.

"Those are enemies. We cannot let them enter our area." The hoarse voice was wrapped in gunpowder smoke and exploded in the dead silent battlefield.

The captain's leather gloves slowly stroked the saber at his waist, the blade reflecting his scarlet pupils, "The virus they are infected with will spread like wildfire. Being merciful now is digging a grave for the entire camp!"

These words were like a rusty knife cutting into everyone's heart.

Private Jack's hands, clutching the bandage, trembled slightly. Three days ago, he had just used these hands to close the eyes of his dying comrade.

Doctor Mam buried her head in her blood-stained apron, thinking of the young soldier who hugged her and cried for his mother last night.

Intermittent groans of the wounded were heard in the distance, mixed with the night wind and penetrated into everyone's eardrums, like countless fine needles irritating the nerves.

"Kill these enemies!" Stanford suddenly shouted, and the cold light of the unsheathed saber cut through the twilight, "Those who disobey military orders will be punished with the same crime!"

But the only response he got was suffocating silence. The soldiers' hands holding their weapons hung at their sides, as if the cold metal had suddenly become a thousand pounds heavy.

Someone secretly wiped his face, and it was hard to tell whether it was sweat or tears.

The military advisor's quill pen paused on the parchment, and the ink spread into a dark cloud.

He pushed off the brass glasses on his nose and said thoughtfully: "Captain, why not place them in an abandoned mine? This will not only isolate the risk of infection, but also... "

Before he finished speaking, Stanford kicked over the wooden box beside him, causing the medicine bottles on the floor to clink.

……

At this moment, on the other side of the canyon, the dark elf scout turned into a dark blue shadow and swept across the battlefield.

She stood in front of the dwarf chieftain, Baras, with dew still on the tips of her ears: "Lord Alpha has arrived at the safe zone. He wants you to catch up as soon as possible."

Balas's battle axe slammed heavily on the ground, shaking off some moss.

He looked at the piles of wounded on the other side of the river, who were abandoned like running dogs.

Baras recalled the scene where His Highness Alpha personally cast magic for the dying soldiers - the silver-haired lord even sacrificed his own life energy just to keep the young warrior's heartbeat.

How merciful all this was. At this moment he realized the old patriarch's earnest teachings: Following the strong may not necessarily allow you to reach the end, but following Alpha will not make you regret it.

The sun gradually rises, and the two sides of the canyon are like two different worlds.

Here, the wounded huddled at the cold entrance of the mine, their wounds oozing blood in the darkness;

Over there, although they don’t have someone to take care of them, they have their own small space to lie down in. That’s the difference.

Balas clenched his battle axe tightly, the metal guard hurting his palms. He finally understood why so many people were willing to follow that "weak" lord - in this cruel doomsday, what is sharper than weapons is the remaining warmth in people's hearts.

Before the dawn light penetrated the thick haze of the canyon, the wailing of the wounded had already pierced the silence.

The stench of rotting flesh mixed with gunpowder smoke surged among the rugged rocks, and broken limbs and arms entangled on the charred rocks like vines.

The dying man stretched out his hands covered with flies, and let out a broken whimper from his throat, calling out to his comrades who would never respond.

In the shadows, dozens of pairs of turbid eyes stared at the passing figures, and withered fingers scratched the air in vain, leaving dark red bloodstains on the ground.

……

As the sun set, the canyon had completely turned into a living hell.

The moans that were originally heard one after another gradually became sparse and finally returned to dead silence.

In the twilight, the mountains of corpses swayed gently in the evening breeze, and the seeping blood meandered through the cracks in the rocks into a stream, forming a dark red puddle at the bottom of the valley.

The buzzing of flies replaced the wailing of humans, and dense black swarms hovered above the pile of corpses like a thick curtain of death.

"Everyone, move!" Captain Stanford kicked away the broken shield in front of him. The sound of metal hitting rock startled a group of carrion crows.

His scarlet eyes swept over the cowering bandit knights, and his bloodstained sword pointed directly at the pile of corpses, "Remove these obstacles and clear a path for me! None of those bastards can escape!"

Everyone looked at each other, but their steps felt as heavy as if they were filled with lead.

The gray-haired knight in the lead swallowed his saliva and approached the pile of corpses tremblingly.

His iron gloves slipped on the rotten flesh and with a strong pull, half of the torso with intestines attached fell off.

"Hurry... finish it quickly." His voice trembled as he turned around and threw the body hard against the cliff. He heard the dull sound of flesh and bones hitting each other, but he didn't dare to look back.

The atmosphere of despair spread among the team like a plague.

These mobs, who were brought together by interests, have completely lost their fighting spirit at this moment.

Some people pretended to exert force to move the stones, but in fact they were just pretending; some people hid in the shadows and wiped the cold sweat off their foreheads, even their breathing was trembling.

As the moonlight climbed up the rock wall, they finally cleared a narrow passage that was barely wide enough for one person to pass through. Debris and corpses piled up on both sides like two crumbling barriers of death.

However, the canyon’s suffering was not over.

On the slopes on both sides, sporadic groans still echoed in the darkness.

Under the moonlight, several broken bodies twitched slightly in a pool of blood, their cloudy eyes looked up at the starry sky, tears mixed with blood flowed slowly until the last breath of life dissipated in the night wind.

The night was suddenly torn apart by a sharp cry: "There is an ambush!"

This warning was like a poisonous snake spitting out its tongue, instantly wrapping around everyone's neck.

The panic was like a wildfire burning through dry grass. The sounds of metal clashing, curses, and slipping leather boots exploded in the canyon. More than 20 knights crashed into the rock wall like headless flies.

"Stop! Anyone who dares to retreat will be killed on the spot!" Centurion Axe's roar shook the rocks off the rock wall, and the bronze halberd in his hand stabbed into the ground fiercely, and the sparks splashed and illuminated his twisted face.

Under the threat of death, the trembling knights were like puppets, but their sword-holding hands shook more violently than dead leaves in the autumn wind.

They stepped through the sticky pool of blood, one step deep and one step shallow, and moved towards the shadow where the groaning came from. The reflection on the sword blade flickered in the darkness.

When the first scream tore through the night, the halo of the torch just happened to sweep across the face of the dying man.

The weapons in the knights' hands suddenly felt as heavy as a thousand pounds - the smiles from yesterday's drinking were still frozen on those twisted faces, and what was revealed under the blood-stained chain mail was clearly the iris emblem unique to their legion.

"This is... this is..." Someone whimpered in his throat, but at this moment the tip of the sword was kicked hard into the wounded man's chest.

"You fool who can't tell friend from foe!" Warden Walder kicked the slumped knight away and pierced the wounded man's throat with his gilded gauntlet sword.

"Only enemies and comrades are there on the battlefield!" Blood splashed onto his visor like a fountain, but Axe turned the blood-stained sword as if he were appreciating a work of art.

With a series of muffled thuds, the bodies that still had body temperature gradually turned cold, and the wailing and pleas for mercy were completely drowned out by the sound of ruthless killing.

Just when the smell of blood was too strong to dissipate, a crisp sound suddenly occurred!

The knight stepped on the mechanism on the right sloping wall, and a barrage of arrows came flying through the air.

The knight in the front didn't even have time to scream before he was shot and turned into a hedgehog. The dull sound of the metal arrow piercing the breastplate mixed with the sound of bones breaking, causing a teeth-grinding echo in the canyon.

"Trap! Run!" Someone shouted, and the whole team scattered.

The fleeing figures ran in a panic in the death web woven by feather arrows, leaving behind corpses on the ground that glowed bluish-white in the moonlight.