In the evening, a military camp quietly stood in the wilderness not far from Shubia City. Standing on the city wall, one could see a continuous stretch of tents. The various flags on the tent fluttered in the evening sunlight, and the shields and swords placed outside the tent reflected a golden halo. Smoke rose up from the camp, but there were still people rushing in from outside.
Allen's tent had long since been erected. It was a single-person tent. It was gray-white and had the Demonic Wolf Battle Flag standing on it. On the other hand, he was standing on a field outside the camp, where seven or eight grass n had been erected. The scarecrows were made by soldiers. They were tied tightly to sharp wooden stakes and nailed to the ground. The distance between each scarecrow varied from one place to another. '"What are you going to do with them?" Regis looked at the scumbags with a puzzled expression on his chin, "What are you going to do with them?"
"Trial." The saber in Allen's hand was neither Red King nor Dragon Fla. It was just an ordinary steel saber. Its only advantage was that it didn't cut corners. In fact, no weapons dealer dared to make a move on the Imperial Army's standard equipnt. Alan stood in front of the scarecrows with his saber in hand. He was three ters away from the nearest scarecrow, and the farthest one was at least ten ters away. He narrowed his eyes and suddenly waved his saber.
The nearest scarecrow's left arm flew up, and the other scarecrow behind him tore a gap in his chest. Alan frowned and walked back after a circle. He raised his hand and slashed again. This ti, the two scarecrows on the right were slashed at the sa ti, and the grass was scattered everywhere.
Regis yawned, "What are you doing?"
Alan shrugged his shoulders. When he was fighting countless exotic beasts on the charred ground in the depths of his consciousness, he still rembered the scene of one against a thousand, or even ten thousand. He planned to combine the experience of that battle with the experience he had experienced all the way up north to create a new saber skill. He had ideas and feelings, but when it ca to using them, it was another matter. In the world of consciousness, there was no physical restraint. He transford into fire, becoming the wind, wherever his will ca from, and all attacks were unrestrained. But now, he was unable to reach the realm of free will in the world of consciousness, one person and one blade at a ti.
He waved his third knife.
This ti, the last scarecrow exploded. Alan simply stabbed his saber into the ground and stopped to think hard.
"People are always used to focusing on one thing. Being able to focus on two uses is already an outstanding talent. Three uses, four uses? That's basically a monster. And as far as I know, no such person has appeared yet." A cold voice rang out, and Belkay, smoking his pipe, stood beside Regis at so unknown ti. It wasn't until he spoke that Regis subconsciously jumped up with an awkward expression. Belkay walked to Ellen's side and waved his hand. Several black threads shot out from his palm and nailed to the scarecrows.
Alan looked at each of the scarecrows and saw a throwing knife stabbed into their chest. So of the scarecrows even blocked it, so Belkay's seemingly simple attack contained a lot of knowledge. Belkay shrugged. "Since you can't count on one hand, don't lock on to each opponent. Let the blade replace your eyes and let it decide which targets to attack. The key is, can you trust it?"
With a wave of his hand, the throwing knives flew back into Belkay's hands and Night Shadow walked back. Alan suddenly drew his saber and slashed without the slightest hesitation. Regis frowned, unable to understand Alan's intention. Belkay stopped and sighed, "Could it be that Earl Allen is as strong as he is now at such a young age? Your talent is the only thing I've ever seen in my life. When I was your age, not to ntion using this saber, I wouldn't even be able to use half a saber."
Ellen exhaled and smiled, "That was also Lord Nightshadow's advice. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to swing that saber just now."
"Don't be modest. With your talent, that saber strike will happen sooner or later."
'"Don't just play riddles. Who's going to tell what happened just now?" Said Regis crazily.
Just as he finished speaking, the heads of the seven or eight scarecrows that were standing upright on the ground flew up at the sa ti, scattering into grass all over the ground. Regis opened his lips. He seed to understand sothing, but he didn't seem to understand anything.
"Oh, right." Belkay patted his head and said, "I almost forgot my business. Earl Allen, Woodrick wants you to attend the battle eting tonight."
"Thank you for notifying , Lord Night Shadow."
"Just call by my na. My lord is a stranger." Belkay said with a smile.
In the evening, a ssenger ca to see Ellen and took him to Woodrick's tent. There were only a few people standing in the tent. Dragon General Woodrick was looking at a sand table on the table. Beside him was adjutant McCarty, a man with a mustache and a solemn expression. Julian's face was filled with excitent, but he could suppress his emotions and wasn't stupid enough to direct Woodrow to work. Whenever the Great General politely asked for his opinion, His Highness the Prince always handed over the decision to Woodrick after giving his opinion.
In this way, Julian's voice could be heard in the tent, but it also showed his respect for Woodrow. Overall, Julian's role in the crusade should have been more of a witness, a participant, but definitely not a commander. He had no experience in commanding the army, not to ntion Woodrick, even Alan was a hundred tis better than him. It is comndable that Julian has so far kept to himself and has not interfered in military affairs.
Belkay was the one who had enough weight in the tent, but was also leisurely enough. He seed to have no interest in marching to war, sat alone and puffed up the clouds, greeted Alan lazily when he saw him, and continued to enjoy his mist grass.
"Earl Allen, co take a look" Woodrick waved his hand and signaled for Allen to step forward. Ellen did not hesitate to co to the table. There was a sand table on the table, and one could clearly see the Angry Horn Forest and Milahan behind it. Milahan wasn't really that big, but it was an important pass to guard the Lonely Mountain Ice Plains. The empire would set up such a city here, and it also had its strategic significance.
It could be said that Milahan was a gateway to the Lonely Mountain Ice Plains, and this gateway was exceptionally strict. Woodrick gave it a brief introduction. Milahan could be considered a small fortress. The walls of the city were thick and were originally guarded by a Bucks legion, but Milahan's defenders were replaced before the declaration of the Blazing Cannon was issued. The Bucks were replaced by a personal army of a Count, and Count Jerrio was definitely a powerful lord. His private army, Hellhounds, was well-trained and had a special unit in addition to the cavalry, musketeers, and infantry.
It was an army of hundreds of wolves. It was a real beast. Count Jerrio had a group of beast trainers in his hands. They caught wild wolves to train and let them go into battle. Beast trainers would apply a special potion to their allies, and they would give off a scent that only wild wolves could sll, so as to distinguish between them and the enemy. Apart from that, the beast trainer had also formulated several special strategies for these beasts according to the needs of the battlefield. One of them, the Fire Wolf Tactic, was quite troubleso.
"But my biggest headache is not Jerry Ormond's dogs, but Milahan himself. Unless Jerry Ormond surrenders, we will have to pay a considerable price to break through Milahan with our strength. Incidentally, our Earl Jerry Ormond himself is a Level 27 Heavy Swordsman."
"Then" Belkay put down his cigarette gun and blinked, "I don't mind taking away the Earl of Jerrio's head before attacking the city."
"No, Lord Night Shadow." Woodrick shook his head and said, "I want you to remain in perfect condition. Your opponent should be Mason, not Jerrio. Although it's a bit troubleso, Milahan is not qualified to block the dragon army's footsteps, so please rest assured that we will be in charge of this first battle."
"Whatever you want." Belkay spread out his hands and said that he didn't care at all about his suggestion being rejected by the general.
Looking at the miniature model representing Milahan on the sand table, Alan narrowed his eyes. At this mont, Belkay looked at him, intentionally or otherwise, with a smile on his face.
"Move! You lazy bastards, who told to see him slacking off? The leather whip in my Lord Rock's hand is not a decoration!" A man with a bare upper body and shiny skin raised his whip and waved it towards the air. He would occasionally whip a coolie, leaving behind a bloody scar, but no coolie dared to complain. After all, not far away, soldiers wearing black armor and helts were eyeing him covetously.
Those were the Hellhounds' soldiers, and the coolies believed that under their helts were faces from hell. They were transporting square strips of stone onto the city wall to fortify and lift up Milahan's defensive wall. At the sa ti, catapults, artillery, and other equipnt that required dozens of people to pull together were also being shipped onto the city's defensive walls, making the city that was originally like a stronghold even more solid.
Jerrio was standing on the wall.
The Count was in his pri, and his stature was exceptionally sturdy. Even amongst the tall n of the Northern Region, a height of 230 cm was still rare. Earl Jerrio was like a moving hill. His plain but absolutely heavy armor made him look more like a war fortress. The straight spikes on his armor and the Hellhound relief on his breastplate gave off a terrifying aura. The Count's pharmacist would hide sulphur in the armor and use a few small chanisms to spit out flas when needed. It could not only injure the enemy, but also create the stage effect that the count wanted. According to Jerrio, that would make him look more like a demon from hell.
Jelio leaned on his giant sword, Wolf Fang, a large sword with crisscrossed canine teeth on its edges, and it would never feel comfortable being cut down by this sword, which was in keeping with the Count's style of torturing enemies with pain. The count watched with satisfaction as the third catapult was pulled to the wall and secured to his desired position. He rembered what Mason had said before he left, "Ard Milahan to the teeth, my lord count."
"That's what I'm doing." Murmured Jerrio.
Reviews
All reviews (0)