"Gather, gather!" A rough voice spread throughout the entire village of Verde.
Bathed by the early morning raindrops, Viking warriors walked out of the houses one by one carrying their own round shields and battle axes.
"boom!"
A small wooden door that was already weak was kicked down by a strong Viking man who came out of the back room.
"I didn't expect it to be so weak." The strong man in the Norman leather shirt didn't care. He put on his slightly worn goggles and walked out of the door.
At this time, the Vikings at Qiuxia Village have basically gathered, while Simon and others in the castle on the other side are very busy.
"Add more firewood and make the fire bigger!" Little Klein looked anxiously at the water in the large iron pot that began to slowly bubble and release a trace of steam. When the pot of water boils, several serfs will transport it to the city wall in several small portable barrels that have been prepared.
"How are you, are you nervous?" On the wall, Simon looked at Ludwig, who was leisurely wiping his sword, and Ryan, the stonemason, who was constantly pacing between the walls to check.
"No..." Ludwig put his sword back into its scabbard and took out the hip flask from his waist. The hand that unscrewed the lid of the flask trembled slightly with excitement, "Okay, I admit it is a bit."
"Protect yourself, I also need a knowledgeable bard to compile this battle into poetry and spread it to the distant world!" Simon raised a slight smile on his lips.
"Of course." The elbow of the jug that Ludwig had just lifted was bumped by an archer who was walking in a hurry with a large quiver filled with arrows, and half the jug of good wine was immediately spilled. But he didn't care, drank the remaining half of the bottle of wine in one gulp, and stood up.
………
"Dear brave warriors, this is a great battle. We will conquer this so-called place blessed by the shepherd who was crucified on the cross." The little leader Floki stood in the middle of the Viking team and shouted. said.
"Break that dilapidated wooden fort and kill them all!" A violent Viking held up his blood-stained battle ax and looked at the Folded wooden fort on the hill with bloodthirsty.
"Robbing them all, killing them all!" The surrounding Vikings were very excited and roared with high spirits.
"Very good, brothers," the little boss Frankie smiled with satisfaction, and then continued, "The great Odin is observing our every move, and the bravest warrior among us will be transformed into a recipient after death. The admired heroic warrior was brought into Valhalla by the Valkyrie, and enjoyed delicious wild boar meat and sweet goat’s milk mead with the gods!”
"oh!"
The Viking warriors fell into a frenzy, and for a while, Simon and others on the fortress wall felt tremendous pressure.
"These are life-threatening lunatics." Ludwig, who understood what these Vikings were talking about, curled his lips and stroked his beloved sword. He knew that what was about to greet Fordburg was an extremely cruel and fierce battle.
"Charge, kill them all!" The little boss pulled out the decorated slotted Viking sword from the scabbard on his waist and pointed at the wooden castle.
"Kill!!!" These crazy Viking warriors raised their bucklers and rushed towards the wooden castle on the hill.
"Archer, prepare to shoot." Simon narrowed his eyes. The visual impact of the densely packed enemies rushing up from under the hill made him nervous and breathless for a moment.
"One hundred and thirty meters, shoot the arrow!" In the hazy rain and fog, when the first Viking rushed over a large stone on the ground used to mark it, Simon shouted to the archers who had already set up their bows and prepared.
"Whoosh!"
The clear trembling of bow strings and the sound of arrows being shot out are endless.
"Just be accurate, kidding me..." A Viking wearing an open mail turban and heavy leather splint armor looked disdainfully at a white-feathered arrow stuck in the soil beside him. But before he could finish speaking, a fast arrow instantly penetrated his throat.
"Young man, my apprentice may not be as good as me, but underestimating my Bill's archery skills is the biggest mistake you have ever made since you were born." Hunter Bill looked disdainfully at the Viking who was holding his throat and kneeling down, spitting out blood. people.
"Aha, tickling!" The Vikings who felt their bucklers blocking the arrows fired at them on the way up the hill laughed loudly and rushed forward faster.
In the first round of shooting, except for Bill, the leader of the archer team, who shot one person with his superb archery skills, most of the arrows missed. Even the arrows that hit the bucklers used by the Vikings to deflect arrows were only a few among the few.
"Don't be discouraged, don't be dazed, keep shooting!" Simon knew that the Vikings were still relatively far away from the fortress wall. It was simply difficult for these archers who had just mastered archery to kill the enemy.
These crazy Viking warriors moved forward in the increasingly heavy rain. The raindrops made the dirt road on the upper hill extremely muddy, and also made the grass on the hill wet and slippery.
"Ah!" A Viking warrior wearing a padded robe that became extremely bulky after getting wet, and a piece of scale-chain mixed armor lost his center of gravity and fell violently.
"Good opportunity, shoot him to death, shoot him to death!" An archer on the city wall found the Viking who had unfortunately fallen. While calling his companions, he quickly drew new arrows from the quiver.
"Hmph!"
Suddenly, several arrows flew towards the Viking. Two arrows hit him, and the Viking groaned in pain from the intense pain.
"Damn it, I will smash your skulls when I climb the city wall!" The angry Viking stood up, quickly blocked his buckler in front of him, and cursed secretly.
Although the arrow was fired from a high place and caused more damage than a flat shot, it still failed to penetrate his thick double armor.
"No, ordinary arrows are difficult to deal with these Norman bandits, who mostly have mail, scales and leather armor." Ludwig, who had witnessed the scene just now, shook his head regretfully.
"That's right, sir, maybe you can get some crossbows back next time." Hunter Bill fired an arrow, and while pulling out a new arrow, he turned to Simon and said, "Ordinary bows and arrows are no match for these sons of bitches. It’s like scratching an itch.”
"Don't think so much yet, keep suppressing fire!" Simon frowned, waved his hands, and thought carefully in his mind.
"Ahhh!"
At this time, among the Vikings charging on the upper hill, the two Vikings in front holding a ladder in one hand and a shield in the other suddenly let out a violent scream and disappeared from the sight of the two people carrying the ladder behind.
"What's going on!?" The two Vikings carrying the ladder behind ignored the arrows flying around them, put down the ladder in their hands and rushed forward.
"It's a trap!" A Viking rushed to the place where the companion who was carrying the ladder disappeared, took a closer look, and took a deep breath.
I saw that it was a large hole as long and wide as a carriage, and it was filled with sharp tree stumps. The bodies of the two companions who had just fallen in had been penetrated by multiple wooden stakes, and it looked like they would not survive.
"It's so miserable." Seeing that his old neighbor from the same village in his hometown was already breathing too much out and taking in little air in the pit, and blood was gushing out as if for free, the Viking sighed, and then passed each other to the side. His companion who rushed forward shouted loudly, "Is there anyone else who can help us lift the ladder up?"
"Ralph, Renault, go help them lift the damn ladder to the bottom of the fortress wall." A man with a ponytail who seemed to be more prestigious among Viking warriors pushed the two companions beside him, and then said to the still standing The companions who continued to charge shouted loudly, "Everyone, be careful where you step, there are traps!"
"What kind of trap? Why does this look like ordinary grass?" A young Viking warrior with a light beard looked at the grass in front of him curiously and cautiously.
Suddenly, before he could react, the young man fell into a trap together with an old Viking warrior who came forward with him.
"No! Olivan!" The ponytailed man who had just shouted to everyone to pay attention to his feet turned his head and saw a scene that broke his heart - his son, who went out to plunder with the army for the first time, fell into a trap.
"No!" The man with the ponytail rushed to the edge of the pit. I saw that my beloved son's body and neck were penetrated by several large wooden stakes, and he could no longer die.
"Ah ah ah, I want to, I want to kill all you bitches!" The ponytail man was in agony, his tearful eyes ignited with raging fire, he put down his dagger in his right hand, and lined a tattered sword under his suit. He rummaged around in his pocket and took out a small bottle of potion filled with a strange fragrance.
"You're done!" The man with the ponytail unscrewed the cork of the bottle, drank the potion that was so bitter to the depths of his soul, wiped his mouth, wailed, and picked up the long-handled hook-blade ax next to a dead body on the ground. Step forward slowly.
