Imperial Crown.

Chapter 269 This is War [3 more]

When Versacine put on his armor and rushed out of the castle, there was still a dry red in his eyes.

Wailing could be heard everywhere in the town, some houses were collapsed by rocks, and broken arms and limbs could occasionally be seen.

Some were wailing while holding their dead relatives, the displaced residents were trembling, some were squatting against the wall, some were running around, trying to knock on the doors on the street, but no one would pay any attention to them.

When the Knight Fick in charge of defending the city saw Wesassin coming, he immediately saluted and reported the current situation: "My Lord Baron, Broca has assembled a catapult and has already launched two rounds. It seems that it is slowly calibrating. I am afraid it will not be long before it can accurately bombard the city wall."

Without saying a word, Versacine climbed up the city wall and could see the catapults that were firmly guarded by Broca's army from afar. They were about 300 meters away from the city wall. The towering wooden frames were clearly visible, like large mouse traps, and the joints of the wood were reinforced with animal skins and steel.

The trebuchet is nothing new, but it is notoriously bulky and difficult to maintain, and will break down if exposed to wind and rain, so it is usually made by military craftsmen using local materials before a major battle. Some will also be built in advance and assembled after arriving at the location.

Having not been involved in a war for a long time, Visasinn had never seen this thing in his life, so he never thought that Broca would use this trick.

"put--"

Slogans pierced the sky. The pole of a catapult on the far left was raised high. When it reached the top, it was stopped by a horizontal bar. With a click, the huge stone in the soft leather net bag was thrown high into the air.

The huge rock whistled as it passed by the city wall, smashing a corner of it, then crashed into the city with a thud, causing a burst of screams and cries.

"Baron, what should we do?" Fick's face turned pale. Even though he was a first-level knight, he could not withstand the power of the catapult. Once hit, he would die.

"What are you panicking about?" Versacem's face was stern and his voice was steady: "Just a few catapults."

"Where are the crossbows? Why don't you organize a counterattack with crossbows?"

Fike lowered his head with a complicated expression and did not respond.

"I'm asking you about the bed crossbow, and you..." Wesasi pointed at Fick's nose and was about to scold him, but suddenly he remembered that the person who was usually responsible for maintaining the bed crossbow was his wife's younger brother.

The last time Kojia Town used crossbows to defend against enemies was 170 years ago.

At this point, Vissasim could no longer vent his anger on anyone. In fact, even he himself had never thought that there would be a day when he would need a crossbow to defend against the enemy.

Whistles sounded one after another, and the remaining five catapults began to operate one after another.

Just as Fick said, including this round, the catapults were only testing and calibrating, and the stones were like sheep dung balls thrown by shepherd boys when playing, falling irregularly, splashing up clouds of dust in the city, and the ground was shaking slightly.

But judging by the distribution of the stones, it won’t be long before the city wall becomes a real target.

"Don't panic, they are just a few broken stones. Even if they hit the wall, it won't be easy to break it." Versacem was very calm. He had to be calm: "Continue to reinforce the wall and defend it firmly. I will find the stonemasons and carpenters in the city.

He built a trebuchet, and so can I!"

Then Wesassin patted Fike on the shoulder and said, "The city wall is in your hands. Don't forget that our wives and children are all in the city!"

Fick accepted the order with a stern face, but as soon as Vesasi left, his face fell.

It’s easy to say “defend”, but how to defend?

The catapult can't do anything to the city wall for a while, but the flesh and blood can be destroyed in a moment!
Vissasim's calmness was only maintained on the surface. When he returned to the castle, he saw the butler's corpse on the ground that had not been cleaned up yet and smelled the nauseating smell of blood. He immediately became furious, drew the long sword at his waist and cursed at the air.

Curse Brocka, curse Doreen, curse Raven, curse Seleva, and curse the Slater family.

This action frightened everyone in the castle, and the maid went to find the lady, but she could do nothing about it.

A clerk plucked up the courage to move closer and try to give advice, but before he could say anything, a cold blade chopped off half of his shoulder with a clang.

The warm blood flowed to the ground and splashed onto Vissaxin's face and mouth, gradually calming him down.

Wisasi smeared the blood on his face until it turned deep red, and ordered: "Put away all the bodies, find the blacksmith and carpenter, repair the crossbow, and build the catapult. I want a preliminary conclusion within one day, otherwise you will end up like this man!"

After saying this, Vissasim ordered someone to bring him paper and pen, locked himself in a dungeon, and began to write letters frantically, asking for help from everyone he could think of, even writing to the Mercenary Guild, which he had always looked down upon.

The words used are so cowardly that it sounds like a subordinate is writing to his superior.

Versacin was on the verge of collapse, because the appearance of the catapult made him realize one thing -

Brocka really wants to destroy the Kovoga family!

This is simply unreasonable.

Even if Brocka killed him, he would not be able to annex his territory. Instead, he would be punished and stripped of his title, which would be of no benefit at all.

But the catapult has no eyes, and even if Visasi is not prepared, he will be seriously injured by it, and it is even possible that he will die on the spot!
The letter was carried out of the city wall by the assassins, and Visasi began to anxiously wait for a reply.

Bad news comes one after another.

First, on the afternoon of the second day, servants reported that the carpenters and blacksmiths in the city had no idea how to build a catapult, and the drawings stored in the warehouse had long been rotten, with many key designs missing.

Under such circumstances, it would take at least 20 days to build the first trebuchet from scratch, and its reliability could not be guaranteed.

It would take at least half a year to get the hang of it to a point where it could be used.

The core mechanism of the bed crossbow has been damaged, and rebuilding it requires the second-level material star iron, which is still in stock in this blacksmith shop; but the third-level monster tendon that serves as the crossbow string is nowhere to be found.

According to Versacine's brother-in-law, that item had been replaced with the Angel's Glory on his sister's dressing table.

I thought the situation couldn't get worse.

But on the morning of the third day, Fick's followers came to report that Fick himself had led 3 people out of the city last night, intending to attack Broca's army at night and burn the bed crossbows, but was ambushed and the entire army was wiped out.

Also delivered was a reply from a nearby mercenary guild, which clearly stated that they would not be an enemy of the imperial army. They also brought a reply from their neighbor, Baron Seleva.

The content of the reply was just like a normal greeting, seemingly enthusiastic, but not only did it not contain any substantive content, it also implicitly reminded Vissasim to surrender.

Versacine looked at the letter and smiled.

That night, the city wall was hit by catapults seven times, and twice hit the same section, causing a certain degree of collapse, but it was pushed back by the soldiers, but the defense line was still in jeopardy.

On the morning of the fourth day, Vissasim, who had not slept all night, summoned his elite "Night Horse Legion" and two squads of light cavalry.

The wind was fierce and the bright red cloak fluttered in the wind. Versacem sat high on his horse in armor, his eyes swept over his soldiers, his voice as hoarse as steel:
"The wall is about to be breached, and we have no reinforcements."

"Someone told us to surrender. By doing so, I can survive, but the town of Koja will fall into the hands of Brocka."

"Your wives will become playthings of others, and your children will become slaves of others."

"If you can accept this fate, then lay down your weapons now. I will not blame anyone."

There was a brief silence, no one left the team, and the soldiers silently raised their weapons.

Wesasi took a deep breath and said, "Very good, if that's the case, then kill the enemy with me!!"

The city gate creaked open, and the first to rush out were two squads of light cavalry, totaling 200 people.

The Broca soldiers who were attacking the city were caught off guard and were scattered and divided by the horses' hooves.

The light cavalry held their scimitars horizontally.

In front of the sharp blade powered by horsepower, leather armor and skin were no different and would be easily cut. Brocka's light infantrymen spurted out fountains of blood, then fell to the ground wailing, and were trampled by horse hooves, crushing their bones and squeezing out their internal organs.

The cavalry marched out of the city, their blood-stained hooves trampling out a scarlet path.

Howell was very nervous, but there was also a hint of excitement in his nervousness. He kept licking his lips. This was the first war he had ever faced in his life, and the shouts and sounds of killing were so exciting.

Looking back at his father, Howell raised the flag and shouted, "Ready—fire!"

Viscount Broca's army strictly followed the Imperial Infantry Drill Manual, with the sword and shield soldiers in the front crouching to provide a good shooting field for the crossbowmen.

The enchanted crossbow arrows flew out like a curtain, breaking through the air with a whistling sound, and then disappeared into the light cavalry formation with a muffled sound, like a sickle cutting wheat, and dozens of horses fell in an instant.

Screams and the sound of breaking bones spread along with blood, but were drowned out by the chaotic sound of horses' hooves.

Just when they were halfway through the charge, the two teams of cavalry drew a beautiful arc, made a big circle to the left, and headed straight for the right wing of Broca's army and the direction of the catapults.

Howell showed a "not unexpected" smile on his face, and immediately ordered his left-wing infantry to swing a "pendulum" to support his right wing and to wipe out the two cavalry teams.

Now, excluding the 300 soldiers who were originally attacking the city and the casualties during this period, Broca's main camp still has about 1400 soldiers, 200 in the center and 600 on each of the left and right wings.

The 600 men on the right wing were enough to stop the horses of the light cavalry, while the left wing that outflanked them from behind could block their retreat.

If Howell had more combat experience, or if there had not been Fick's previous night raid, he might have judged that this was a feint aimed at dispersing the troops.

But Howell didn't, and neither did his father, Broca.

Two teams of light cavalry rushed into the right wing of Broca's army, and their speed inevitably slowed down. At this time, Broca's left wing also attacked from the rear, trapping the two teams of light cavalry.

The light cavalry, having lost their speed, were even less effective than the infantry with a good formation; their annihilation was only a matter of time.

Just then, the ground began to shake!
Amid the thunderous sound of horse hooves, Vissasim, holding a spear, led his 100 elite heavy cavalry out of the city gate!
When the heavy cavalry appeared in front of him, Howell finally understood why the heavy cavalry was called the king of the battlefield!

There were only 100 people, but they rushed out with a terrifying momentum like a flood bursting a dam.

Howell was about to order the crossbowmen to fire, but at this time his own formation was in chaos due to the encirclement and suppression of the light cavalry, and he could not make enough space.

His face turned pale and he could hardly think.

At this time, Bloka stood up and shouted loudly: "Silver Yak Legion, raise your shields and stop the enemy!!"

The horn sounded long and hard, and the Silver Yak Legion moved. The soldiers in the front row raised the huge shield that was as tall as a person and held it with their shoulders.

In the sunlight, the smooth shields reflected the snow on the battlefield, like a steel wall, and the spears, halberds and axes that emerged from the gaps in the shields added bloodthirsty thorns to the wall.

Heavy cavalry charging the heavy infantry phalanx is an extremely stupid tactic, but at this moment Vissasim has no choice. If he cannot take this opportunity to defeat Broca, then what awaits him will be a slow death!
Broca also knew this, and the reason why he activated the trebuchet was that he didn't want to give Versacem a chance to fight him, but he didn't expect that his weakness would be discovered. The distance between the two sides was getting closer and closer, and Versacem and Broca could clearly see each other on their horses.

But immediately, Vissaxin looked away because he had already rushed to the thick shield wall!
The spear in his hand was wrapped in chaotic-colored fighting spirit. With a horizontal swing, Vissaxin's fighting spirit turned into ripples and spread out. The sharp fighting spirit of the third level cut through the shield, as well as the arms and torso behind the shield.

There was not even a scream, as blood and internal organs splattered everywhere like an explosion, steaming in the cold winter wind and falling, crackling on the head and face of every soldier around.

Behind Visasi, the Night Horse Legion smashed into the formation through the torn gap.

Some of the knights in the front row were pierced by spears, and the inertia caused them to rush forward along the spear shafts, rolling together with the people who killed them.

Some dodged the spears, but were dragged to the ground by their dead horses and had their legs broken, and were then smashed open by spears and axes coming from all directions.

Others used their lances to pierce the enemy, but they themselves stopped in place due to loss of kinetic energy and were pushed into the enemy camp by their colleagues who came from behind.

Although they suffered heavy losses, with Vissaxin as the vanguard, this team still smashed into the Silver Yak Legion and even seemed to be able to penetrate it.

Brocka raised the spear high in his hand, with the light of bright fighting spirit flowing on it. The shadow of a huge bear head flashed on the spear, and then accompanied by a terrifying roar, the spear flew out of his hand and hit the handle of Vissasim's spear with a whistling sound!
Light and chaos surged and intertwined, like thick smoke in a fire, and a clanging flame burst out between the tip and the barrel of the gun.

With a snap, the spear in Visasi's hand broke in half, but the flying spear tip also used up all its power.

Versacine reached out and scooped it up, holding it high towards Brocka, his eyes filled with the pleasure of revenge!
His fighting spirit may not be as strong as Brocka's, but in terms of combat experience, Versacim, who has experienced the battle with the Hand of Death and the experience in the arena, is more than one step ahead!
Once the two are face to face, Versacine is confident that he can capture Brocka!

He brandished his spear, forced back Howell who wanted to stop him, and urged his horse forward.

But Brocka was also very aware of the difference in strength between the two, so he waved his hand calmly.

Behind him, a small team of crossbowmen suddenly stood up. They were wearing snow-white cloaks that blended in with the silver makeup on the ground, making them almost indistinguishable.

Everyone's crossbow is loaded with enchanted crossbow arrows.

Without caring about the soldiers in front of him, Broca gave the order: "Shoot!"

The crossbow arrows hit Visasi almost like nails on boards. His fighting spirit surged, and he swung the spear in his hand. With a sound of metallic explosion, many enchanted crossbow arrows broke into two or three pieces, or shattered into pieces and fell to the ground.

But there were too many of them, and even though Vissasim tried his best, he still couldn't protect himself. With the sound of arrows piercing his flesh, his horse wailed and slowly fell to the ground. He himself was hit by three crossbow arrows, one in the lower abdomen, one in the right thigh, and another in the shoulder.

The first symptom is not pain, but numbness and itching.

"Shameless——!!!"

The crossbow arrows were actually poisoned!

Brocka waved his hand expressionlessly, and the Silver Yak Legion began to rush towards Visasinn at all costs, and a team of crossbowmen behind him began to reload again.

Looking at the surging enemy army, Vissaxin's heart suddenly froze - he is not going to capture me alive?

He really wants to kill me! ?

The shadow of death loomed in Vissaxin's heart. He roared and pulled out the crossbow arrow from his thigh, and there was a hint of grief and anger in his voice.

Just then, a Nighthorse cavalryman rushed to his side and stretched out his arm: "Baron, let's go!"

Seeing that more and more enemies were gathering around him and his Nighthorse Legion was engaged in a deadly battle, Visasi looked at Brocka sitting on horseback, feeling unwilling.

But suddenly, he saw Brocka taking another spear from his soldiers, and the bright fighting spirit had begun to be injected into it.

Fear suddenly exploded in his chest, and Visasi grabbed the arm of the cavalryman who came to his rescue and jumped onto the horse.

The cavalryman asked, "Sir, where are we going?"

"I will remember you," said Versacem.

"what?"

Before the cavalryman could react, Visasi grabbed his neck, lifted him high, and slammed him into Brocka, then turned his horse's head and ran away!
"Ab, Ab——"

This is a Nordic dialect, meaning "escape"!
As the commander fled, the battle soon came to an end. A few of the remaining cavalrymen ran away, but most of them surrendered on the spot.

Brocka led his troops into the city and took over this prosperous town, while Howell was responsible for managing the battlefield, treating the wounded, and taking in prisoners in the rear.

Howell learned a lot from this battle. There were some things he couldn't fully understand, but there was one thing he remembered in his mind.

That is calmness. Only by staying calm can you make the most accurate decisions in a rapidly changing battlefield.

He was busy outside until the evening, and although the chores were complicated, Howell was still very excited about this victory.

But this excitement gradually disappeared after entering the city.

Fire and thick smoke could be seen everywhere. Howell thought it was the army's bonfire, but it was clearly the houses that were on fire.

The bodies of civilians were lying on the ground in a staggered manner, naked, with the coagulated blood beneath them reflecting the firelight.

The burnt beams and pillars collapsed in the flames, but they could not cover up the cries and screams from all around.

Some soldiers snatched money bags and iron pots from civilian houses, and would immediately draw their swords and attack anyone who tried to stop them.

“Ah, ah… ah!!!!!”

A wild beast-like roar was heard, and Howell followed the sound and came to the door of a house.

It can be seen that this family is not rich, as the clothes on the clothesline are covered with patches.

In the yard, there lay the body of an old man, his head and body separated, his blood having solidified in the freezing temperature.

The cheerful teasing and the girl's cries filled Howell's ears.

This made his sense of justice swell, and he rushed into the house in two steps. He saw the stove still burning and oatmeal in the pot. The family was obviously preparing to have dinner.

On the only table in the house, a young girl with disheveled hair was lying there, her body shaking constantly, her mouth full of blood, her fair skin covered with purple handprints, and her empty eyes without any expression.

A man was lying on the kang, his legs had been cut off and blood was flowing everywhere. A soldier was laughing and stepping on his back to prevent him from moving, while another was holding his chin open and supporting his eyes, forcing him to look at the tragic scene.

"Who told you to do this?" Howell shouted, "Stop!"

"Master, it's not that we don't want to leave you a mouthful of soup!" The soldier who was working hard under the girl raised his head and said with a flattering smile: "It's really that this family is dishonest and actually wanted to poison the porridge. We just want to teach them a lesson!"

This sentence immediately caused the soldiers to laugh.

A sense of absurdity arose in Howell's heart.

Howell knew this soldier. He was the son of a blacksmith and usually a very honest man. Why did he become like this now?

With a clang, Howell drew the long sword from his waist: "I command you, stop!"

Seeing that Howell was really angry, the soldiers looked at each other, stopped smiling, and with resentment on their faces, they put on their clothes and left in shame.

Howell walked to the kang, looked at the man and asked with concern: "What's going on? Tell me, I will definitely seek justice for you!"

The man's lips trembled.

Howell put his ear closer.

The man suddenly roared, "Damn you Xiechaling bastard!"

He opened his mouth full of broken teeth, as if he wanted to eat Howell alive. However, Howell was a first-level transcendent after all, and he almost reflexively put the sword into his mouth.

An innocent life was lost in his hands, and Howell drew out his sword reluctantly. The blood, which he was already accustomed to, now tasted so slippery and disgusting.

He shifted his gaze to the girl on the table.

Her eyes were still open, but she had stopped breathing.

Howell gasped violently, and he rushed out of the door and went directly to the castle to find Brocka: "Father, please enforce military discipline. This is really outrageous!"

Brocka said calmly, "Oh, why?"

Thinking his father didn't know what had happened, Howell raised his voice and recounted everything he had seen in an almost accusatory manner.

At the end, Howell blushed and said, "We are nobles. Should our soldiers be as crude and brutal as orcs and barbarians? This is not in line with the creed of nobility, father!"

"Please immediately issue an order to enforce military discipline and severely punish those soldiers who caused the trouble!"

Looking at the hair on Howell's lips, Broca had a complicated expression and sighed softly: "I condoned the massacre."

Howell opened his eyes wide, full of confusion.

"It's a good thing that you don't understand. You will slowly understand in the future." Broca said calmly: "Go down, take a good bath and rest."

"Yes... Father..." Howell walked out in a daze, the light in his eyes gradually disappearing. The concepts he had formed since childhood had been shattered, and he didn't know when he would be able to rebuild them.

When he reached the door, he stopped but did not turn back. There was a hint of tears in his voice: "But... Father, why? "

Brocka took a deep breath, put the pipe in his mouth and took a sip.

Looking at the gradually rising flames, Brocka said calmly:

"This is war, kid."

……

(End of this chapter)