Chapter 212 – 89 Strong Attack_2
Winters directly stuffed the soft pouch through the slits of the door; he no longer used a powder fuse but instead fully unleashed a fire ignition spell.
Unlike the layer-by-layer ignition of the powder fuse, the fire ignition spell acted directly on the entire bag of black gunpowder. The black powder, having absorbed a massive amount of energy, breached its energy barrier and exploded instantaneously.
With a “boom,” the powder pouch exploded violently, the iron nails bound to its exterior propelled by the burning gas of the gunpowder, shooting out in all directions.
An iron nail shot through the slit in the door, carving a bloody furrow over Winters’ head. And inside the door, the situation had to be even grimr—the screams of agony coming through the slit were evidence, and the force pushing against the door from the inside drastically diminished.
“On my command! All together, ram the door!”
The Venetians put all their strength into ramming the gate, and at last, the barricade door was breached.
The Tanilians on the wall realized that the barricade door had been broken through, and they shouted hoarsely.
“Centurion, you take two n and destroy the door hinges; the rest, follow !” Winters drew his combat knife and was the first to rush into the barricade.
The Venetian soldiers and Herders, with their left arms exposed, charged into the barricade and would kill anyone they saw whose left arm was not bared.
The corridor leading to the second level of the barricade was too narrow for any dodging. The n pushed against those in front of them, who had no place to escape but to thrust and parry blade for blade.
Not just the Venetians and Herders, but even the Tanilians had gone red-eyed with killing frenzy. Those at the very front scread with inhuman howls as they stabbed toward the enemy or were stabbed down.
As the n at the front fell, those behind imdiately took their place.
The soldiers of the Ancient Empire used phalanx tactics to constantly replace the front-line soldiers, but the soldiers nowaday no longer received such training.
In this bloody lee, they could only fight to the death; and if the battle continued this way, everyone would perish. As the front line fell, one by one, the relatively safe rear ranks would beco the new front.
As the battle reached this stage, victory was no longer decided by tactics, but by willpower and numbers. It was a matter of who had thicker nerves, who could hold out for just one more minute. And if neither side feared death, it boiled down to which side had more n.
However, in the corridor wide enough for only three n abreast, Winters’ sword was already notched and when he struck an enemy it felt like swinging a tal club.
He had acquired multiple cuts on his limbs, and if not for the instincts honed by years of swordsmanship, he would have been dead already.
Winters was becoming numb. He was no longer excited, no longer tense, not even afraid anymore. He just chanically parried the oncoming weapons and counterattacked towards the enemy’s shoulders and necks.
Spellcaster, officer—all these identities ant nothing. No officers were needed in this at grinder, nor spellcasters, only flesh.
This tiny corridor swallowed those who were alive and kicking, only to spit out mutilated corpses.
Winters did not know how many n he had cut down, but he could indeed feel they were making progress and that the enemy was gradually retreating.
An enemy in front of him swung a club overhead at Winters. chanically, Winters “blocked—chopped.”
But the now-numb Winters failed to notice that the “club” was not a club at all, but rather a flail.
He blocked the “club,” but the striking head, attached to a chain on the end of the club, swung around the blade and smashed half a circle before brutally striking Winters on the head.
Stay tuned to empire
Winters only felt his consciousness suddenly go dim, his vision darkened, and for the first ti during combat, he dropped his weapon.
The Tanilian wielding the flail was about to follow up on his advantage with another fierce blow to Winters. However, the Venetian soldiers and Herders quickly protected Winters, lifting the nearly unconscious Winters to the rear of the corridor.
Half-dazed, Winters heard the sound of a gong. He shook his head trying to clear his mind, but there was an indescribable severe pain inside his skull.
His diaphragm squeezed his stomach, and he retched involuntarily a couple of tis, but nothing ca up.
“Is that a gong?” The pale-faced Winters grabbed the soldier supporting him; he wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating and with effort asked the soldier, “Do you hear the gong?”
“Officer, it’s a gong. You heard right; it’s a gong,” the soldier replied.
Upon hearing the soldier’s answer, Winters’ expression suddenly relaxed, he let out a breath as blood ran from the top of his head down to his chin, making his smile look sowhat fierce, “Retreat! Retreat now! Lieutenant Cherini has succeeded!”
In the tactical courses at the Military Academy, Private Winters Montagne had only learned four things: position the reserves on a reverse slope; if the front won’t break, flank from the sides; backup plans will eventually co into play; and—before launching the real attack, make sure to feint in other directions.
[At the Military Academy, cadets automatically obtain the rank of Private upon enrollnt.]
There were at least a hundred enemy soldiers in the fortress, and Winters had never imagined that he could break through the Tanilians at the main entrance with his small band of thirty-odd crippled soldiers and makeshift slave troops.
Every attack at the main gate was a feint; the louder and fiercer, the better.
After the battle at the main gate drew the attention of all the Tanilians, Andre Cherini would lead four of the most capable Venetian soldiers and Herders from another direction into the fortress.
Forging a cannon is difficult, but destroying one is easy. Andre ca equipped with enough nails and hamrs to seal the touchholes of every cannon on Red Sulfur Island.
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