"At that time, the fierce Viking warriors were yelling, and the shield wall made of round shields in their hands was like a big airtight plank." Miller, with gray hair and beard, sat comfortably in the large, luxuriously decorated room. Rumors gushed around the indoor fireplace, "Sir Simon's defensive moves had little effect against the Vikings' second, more organized attack."
"Wow, grandpa, the Vikings later broke through the fort gate and killed everyone inside, right?" A brown-haired child sat next to the old Miller, his clear blue eyes full of doubts.
"No, silly boy, if we really kill everyone, how can your grandfather, me, Master Simon, and a bunch of now famous big shots be famous all over the world?" Old Miller laughed and gently picked up the A glass of noble rot wine on the exquisite wooden table. "Later, the Viking warriors entered the castle gate. Their leader spoke a language we couldn't understand. Then, everyone in the castle heard the battering ram hitting the castle gate continuously. That rhythmic sound.”
"Oh my God, that must be cool." The little boy laughed and couldn't help but imitate the castle gate and battering ram with his hands, banging them.
"No, no, my little Zhan, the sound of the impact was not cool. Instead, it made everyone in the castle put their hearts in their throats. They were so nervous that they vomited, fainted, and even went insane." Old Miller seemed to recall. Horrible thing, he closed his eyes and shook his head.
"We carefully moved the wooden barrel filled with boiling water to the killing hole and dumped it, because the Viking spearmen were always watching there." Old Miller paused, as if trying to recall the scene that year, "The one next to him The heroic militiaman only glanced down through the killing hole, and then his head was pierced by a spear, and his brains spilled out."
"That must be very scary." Little Zhan no longer had the fun and fun just now, and showed a look of fear as he was immersed in the situation.
"That's right. After your grandfather and I poured down the boiling water, before the spearmen below could react with their shields raised to dodge, I glanced down." Old Miller took a sip of the wine in his glass, "They have Having learned the lesson from the burnt hands last time, they leaned closely together this time, and the bucklers in their hands formed a large wooden board with almost no gaps. Most of the boiling water just flowed down from the edge of the large wooden board."
"Where are the stones?" Little Zhan asked very worriedly, as if he was a helpless child in the castle at that time.
"Yes, we still have rocks," Old Miller put down his wine glass excitedly and clapped his hands. "I lifted the rocks at that time, stood some distance away from the killing hole, in the blind spot of the Viking spearmen, and threw the rocks hard. Go down. Immediately there was a short, heart-piercing scream from below."
"Did you hit someone?" Little Zhan En showed an proud smile.
"Of course, when I suppressed them with boiling water again and checked, I saw a viking with a broken head and bleeding, motionless, placed in the corner of the castle gate. He should be an unprepared Viking who was specially designed to carry the siege ram. The guy who opened the door." Old Miller showed a proud look. He had killed countless people in his life, but now he was laughing heartily because he killed a Viking warrior by smashing him to death.
"Nice job, haha!" Little Zhan laughed along with his grandfather.
"However," Old Miller suddenly changed his tone, with a serious look on his face, "The Vikings used their huge brute force to hit the castle gate with their battering rams. When we noticed something again, the castle gate was already in tatters. , is in danger."
"Oh, no!" Little Zhan's eyes widened, and he was so nervous that his breathing became rapid.
"Master Simon asked us to leave all the archers and two militiamen to guard the killing hole. Everyone else returned to the gate of the fort. Everyone held their weapons tightly in their hands and gathered around the gate. , extremely nervous." Old Miller frowned and his voice trembled.
………
"My master has ordered that everyone, except the archers, gather in front of the wooden castle gate," young Miller shouted loudly, and then pointed to the two militiamen standing on the pile of rocks next to the killing hole, "You two One of them will stay behind to help the archers throw rocks down from the killing hole and support us from the rear."
After speaking, Miller picked up his spear from the wall, tightened the strap of the Norman helmet on his head, and quickly followed the militiamen down the stairs of the fort wall.
When Miller came to the front of the fort gate, Simon, the stonemason Ryan, Ludwig and most of the surviving soldiers of the militia were looking solemnly at the fort gate in front of them that might fall down at any time.
"Everyone, listen up, Vikings are not devils, nor are they divine punishments sent by God. They are also human beings, and they will die if they are fatally injured, so you don't have to be afraid and despair," said the man holding a wooden shield and a dagger. Simon loudly made the final mobilization, "We have killed many Vikings on the fortress wall and the killing hole. Their deaths are undoubtedly the best proof - they are just a bunch of damned ones who are a little taller and stronger than us. Just a robber."
"Kill these bandits and defend Fort Verde!" Old Bauch, not far from Simon, shouted loudly.
"We Verde people would rather fight until the last drop of blood is shed!" Old Martin, the militiaman, also shouted.
As if infected by these two old guys, the remaining soldiers shouted, insulted, prayed, or encouraged them to dispel the extreme fear in their hearts.
Simon noticed that the trembling hands of many soldiers who knew they were going to fight face-to-face with the Vikings no longer trembled, and the originally fearful eyes gradually became firmer.
"boom!"
With a loud bang, the last fort gate made a sad creaking sound, and he fell to the ground unwillingly.
After briefly making eye contact with the Vikings at the fort gate, Simon took the lead in shouting and rushing forward.
"Kill them all!" came the violent roar of their little leader Floki from behind the Vikings. But he didn't need to say anything, this group of natural warriors had already stepped forward to greet them.
"Boom!"
A Viking warrior wearing leather armor struck the shield with a hatchet that Simon raised his hand to block.
"We have to get rid of him quickly!" Simon looked at the Vikings who were following behind him, and instantly felt a burning feeling.
"Drink!" Simon's sharp dagger pierced the Viking warrior's leather wristband and slit the main artery in his wrist.
Bright red blood continued to gush from the Viking warrior's wrist. Just when he was about to raise his shield to protect himself, he looked at the dagger stabbing at his neck, getting closer and closer, and he knew that he was still a step too slow.
Simon, who pulled out the dagger from the Viking warrior's neck, felt his heart numb and raised his wooden shield like a reflex. Sure enough, almost at the same time, several spears with blood grooves pierced Simon's shield.
"That guy is their lord, kill him!" Arvid, the Viking businessman who followed behind, saw Simon holding up his shield to block at a glance, and shouted loudly to the Viking warriors around him.
"Damn it!" Simon suddenly felt the pressure doubled. This is different from the game. When you face three or four fierce warriors with spears waiting for you to reveal your flaws, all you can do is defend.
"Kill!"
Fortunately, the soldiers behind Simon also came in at this time, and fought with the Vikings at the fort gate amidst loud war cries.
Miller suddenly thrust the spear in his hand into the chest of a Viking wearing chainmail, and suddenly the iron ring flew out and blood sprayed everywhere.
But before Miller could draw out his spear, a Viking warrior stepped forward, swung his arm and struck the mail on Miller's right shoulder with an axe.
Miller felt a huge pain spread to half of his body in an instant. When the Viking was about to swing his next axe, he had no strength to raise his left hand holding the shield.
"Are you going to die?" Miller was a little desperate and closed his eyes with endless regret.
"Ah ah ah ah ah!"
Miller opened his eyes and saw that the Viking just had an arrow in the back of his neck. Before he could make a sound, Ludwig behind Miller stepped forward and slashed the Viking's face to pieces with his half-sword.
"Get back." Before Miller could say his thanks for the help, Ludwig roughly pulled his collar and dragged him behind the battle line.
Miller knew that if it hadn't been for the archer who killed the man on the fortress wall and Ludwig behind him, his head would have been split in two.
After the fort gate was hammered down, most of the Vikings faced the inside of the wooden fort and held their shields, which gave the militiamen and archers who were left behind at the killing hole an excellent opportunity.
"Uh-huh!"
A Viking warrior wearing a Norman round helmet and following his companions in the narrow fortress gate suddenly felt a heavy blow from a giant object on his head. His vision went black and he lost consciousness and fell to the ground.
"What's going on?" A Viking warrior nearby heard the crisp sound of the iron helmet on the head of his companion. Just as he turned around to look, an arrow hit the exposed face of his open wide-brimmed pot helmet.
"Watch your head!" After paying the price of several people's lives, most of the Vikings realized at this time that they were being attacked from two sides. Although the enemies on the back were not like the enemies on the front, they would engage in direct bloody sword fights. .
Several Vikings turned their backs without hesitation and threw their spears at the annoying killing hole.
"careful!"
"Ah!" A young militiaman who couldn't dodge was hit by two spears at the same time. He held the stone in his hand and fell out of the killing hole uncontrollably, hitting the three Vikings.
"It's this idiot who killed several of our brothers, kill him!"
The disgraced Viking warriors staggered up, filled with rage, and hacked and stabbed the young militiamen who were still breathing and not dead on the ground.
Blood splattered all over the inner wall of the castle gate, and the muddy ground was dyed a hideous dark red. Although only a few archers on the fort wall witnessed his bravery during his lifetime, he passed away with no regrets.
