Being a knight is not easy

Chapter 256 Battle of the Canyon
Suddenly, the sound of synchronized mechanical winches came from the top of the canyon.

Dozens of improved catapults were slowly pushed to the designated location, but they were not loaded with stones.

Those iron baskets were filled with still-smoking steel fragments.

"put!"

Robin's voice echoed through the canyon via copper pipes.

What Salgman saw last was the cold light reflected from the rain of steel.

The fragments collided with each other as they fell, emitting eerie sparks shaped like bauhinia flowers, resembling a celebration of death.

Salgman's fists clenched so tightly they cracked, and the wolf head relief on the bronze arm guards was flattened.

“The crossbow.” He stared at the fluttering flag, as if he wanted to tear it apart with his gaze. “That old man’s family.”

Memories gnawed at his heart like venomous snakes—a month ago, the corpses of three thousand wolf riders and thousands of barbarian warriors were piled up into a mound of bones.

"Retreat the entire army!" Salgeman roared suddenly, the sound shaking the rocks above the canyon and sending them tumbling down. "Lower the trees and build ladders!"

The barbarian army retreated like a tide, leaving behind a scene of devastation outside the canyon—broken weapons, charred corpses, and trampled totem poles.

But Salgman knew that the real terror was just beginning.

As night fell, the campfires in the barbarian camp burned like a sea of ​​blood.

Salgman, shirtless, allowed the shaman to draw new battle markings on his back using the blood of magical beasts.

His gaze never left the direction of the canyon.

There, one could vaguely see the garrison installing some kind of giant metal device on the fortress, which gleamed with a faint blue light under the moonlight.

"Zotula, the siege ladders will be completed by noon tomorrow," the shaman reported in a low voice. "But the scouts say they've found strange iron pipes on both sides of the canyon."

Salgman suddenly raised his hand, and the still-damp beast blood from his battle tattoos slid down his muscle lines.

He recalled the eerie metallic hum during the day, and the wounds on the wolf riders' bodies atop the Jingguan (a mound of corpses).

“Tell the craftsmen.” He grabbed his battle axe, the blade reflecting his distorted face, “Make all the ladders three more layers thick.”

The north wind, carrying sand and gravel, lashed against Salghman's bronze skin. The barbarian Zotura gripped the wolf-headed scimitar at his waist tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force.

The sound of the mechanical winch coming from the top of the canyon was like the whisper of death, echoing back and forth between the steep rock walls, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Five hundred barbarian warriors carried the two siege engines on their shoulders and backs, slowly pushing them out of the fortifications. The iron supports scraped against the ground, producing a grating, ear-piercing sound.

"What's in those iron baskets?" the shaman beside Salgman suddenly screamed, pointing his withered finger to the sky.

Dozens of iron baskets emitting blue smoke slowly rose up, filled with steel fragments of various shapes, and dripping dark red molten lava.

This refined iron, which should have been used to forge weapons, has now become a deadly tool of slaughter.

Robin stood atop the hundred-meter-high watchtower of the fortress, his knight's armor gleaming with a cold, eerie blue light under the moonlight. He raised his hand and pressed the bronze horn-shaped sound transmission device, and the magically amplified voice instantly resounded throughout the entire canyon: "Release!"

At the command, the catapult's winch snapped with a deafening roar.

Thirty iron baskets shot into the air like arrows, drawing eerie arcs across the night sky.

Salgman was horrified to discover that the steel fragments were colliding with each other as they fell—an attack they had witnessed yesterday, one that posed a deadly threat to unarmored barbarian warriors.

"No!" Salgman's roar was drowned out by the deafening roar. A torrential rain of steel poured down, and the barbarian vanguard, bearing the brunt of the attack, let out a bloodcurdling scream.

The sharp iron plate, like the scythe of death, easily sliced ​​through leather armor and pierced into flesh.

Some had half their faces sliced ​​off, some had their chests pierced, and some had their scalps ripped off, with blood and brain matter splattering onto their companions.

On the city wall, Robin coldly watched the scene. He gripped his pulley compound bow tightly, keeping a close eye on the battlefield, preparing to fill all one hundred spots for the day first, as if cheering for the carnage.

"Retreat! All troops retreat!" Salgman swung his battle axe, cleaving a soldier who was trying to escape in two.

But fear spread like a plague, and the barbarian army began to crumble.

Under the moonlight, the open space outside the canyon was soon piled with corpses. Broken weapons, charred bodies, and shattered totem poles were scattered all over the ground, and the air was filled with a nauseating stench of blood.

This probing attack ended in a crushing defeat for the barbarians.

As night fell, the campfires in the barbarian camp burned like a sea of ​​blood.

Salgman, shirtless, allowed the shaman to draw new battle markings on his back with the blood of demonic beasts.

Thick, viscous animal blood slid down the muscle lines, dripping onto the bear-skin carpet and spreading out in dark red patterns.

"Zothura, we lost two thousand barbarian warriors and five hundred brave warriors today," the shaman priest reported in a low voice.

To be called a warrior is equivalent to being a high knight of the human race.

Salgman suddenly raised his hand to interrupt, his gaze fixed on the distant fortress.

Under the moonlight, the garrison was installing some kind of giant metal device, the eerie blue light flowing across the steel surface like a lurking venomous snake.

He recalled the terrifying steel rain during the day, and the mangled corpses of the wolf riders on the Jingguan (a mound of corpses).

The wounds were terrifyingly clean, as if they had been reaped in one fell swoop by some kind of divine weapon.

“Tell the craftsmen.” Salgman grabbed his battle axe, the blade reflecting his distorted face. “Didn’t they say they would build a kind of arrow tower?” His voice was low and hoarse, with a barely perceptible tremor.

“Tell them that as long as they can build it, I will let them go home after the war.”

After arriving in the Western Regions, Salghman captured mostly human artisans.

He knew the abilities of these craftsmen well; given enough materials and time, they could even equip the barbarians with the same advanced equipment as human warriors.

Meanwhile, Robin was standing at the highest point of the stronghold, overlooking the entire battlefield.

The wind chimes beside him were testing a new weapon: thirty "buzzing giant crossbows" inlaid with magical runes.

These war machines, the latest creations from Wilke Workshop, have crossbow arms forged from a mixture of monster tendons and fine steel, arrows coated with three deadly poisons, and specially designed explosive devices installed at the tail.

“Robin, everything is ready.” Wind Chime pointed to the winding iron pipes on both sides of the canyon. “These oil pipes are pressurized. As long as the barbarians dare to attack the city again…” A cruel smile curled at the corner of her mouth.

Robin nodded, his gaze sweeping over the War Legion, which stood ready for battle on the training ground.

Fifteen thousand heavily armored warriors, clad in cross-shaped iron anchor heavy armor, had their halberds gleaming with a ghostly blue light of demon-slaying steel.

Ten thousand crossbowmen carried improved "buzzing repeating crossbows" on their backs, with their waist quivers filled with triangular armor-piercing arrows.

And there were also five thousand Mo Dao soldiers, wielding two-meter-long giant Mo Dao swords, silently awaiting the final order to charge.

(End of this chapter)