Luck in the world always comes unexpectedly, but few people can grasp it; disasters in the world may be late, but they are never absent.
When the sun's rays illuminated all the roofs in Valentine, Allen, who was second only to the sect leader "Shepherd" Virgil Edwards in the "Seventh Generation" sect, was dressed in black.
Wearing robes and rough iron armor, surrounded by a team of more than a hundred people, they arrived at the small town that was about to be swept away by the flames of war.
He didn't have a good rest last night, and neither did the men behind him. Their original plan was to travel all night and set up camp to rest in the middle of the night. However, when they arrived at the pre-selected camping site, they found that they had been sent out to scout the situation and set up the camp.
The vanguard team suffered heavy losses. Although not many people died, the camps that were originally mainly arranged for their main force were burned clean. What was left in the large black ashes were only some pitiful fragments and
As pitiful as the fragments, people burned to coke or smoked to black charcoal.
There were no tents or relevant backup plans. The team of more than 100 people could only lie sprawled on the ground with no beds and no shelter over their heads. Although the lawn was soft enough, stones would hit the body from time to time.
The burning smell of the abandoned camp nearby, and the wind in the middle of the night on the freezing grassland even in late spring, still made them miserable. One of the older congregants even suffered a stroke due to this.
When everyone woke up one after another in the early morning, the body of this old man who was extremely devout to the doctrine was completely cold.
The loss of the camp made Allen realize that the enemy he faced this time would definitely be difficult to deal with. There were various signs that strong reinforcements must have come to this town, because under normal circumstances, a sheriff who only knew how to maintain the internal security of the town would not be able to deal with it when he encountered it.
When faced with a similar danger, if he didn't run away, he would just hide in the town and wait for bullets to ravage his town, and would never take the initiative to attack.
But now, looking at the tired looks of his men, Allen only wondered whether there might be any mistakes in Mr. Shepherd's decision this time, but he immediately put this extremely dangerous idea behind him.
In the "Seventh Generation" sect, disobedience to the Shepherd is even more serious than blaspheming the goddess, and one will receive the most severe and extreme punishment in the sect, so it is best not to even have such thoughts.
However, seeing the loyal believer who died of a stroke being burned into a pile of human-shaped charcoal by the believers who collected his body, he couldn't help but start to murmur in his heart. After all, non-combatants appeared before the war.
Attrition is not a good sign.
"If these are all because of that person, then..."
I remember that when he first became the most trusted and closest subordinate of Mr. Shepherd, Mr. Shepherd once told him some things about Behemoth, the evil god of destruction. According to Mr. Shepherd, this evil god will descend into an incarnation.
, destroying those who are struggling to survive under the protection of the goddess, he even has the ability to destroy the goddess herself, and ultimately plunge the world into eternal darkness.
He always felt that this matter had been a little abnormal since the arrival of the long-haired middle-aged man. For example, the men they had seen so far were only the few twenty-something men he brought with him at the beginning.
They were just people, and even now more than half of those people have disappeared. Only a few people are still with them and participated in this operation. The middle-aged man doesn't know where he is.
Combined with the current situation that the town was obviously prepared, Allen gradually felt that a plot against their sect had enveloped each of them, and the middle-aged man claimed to have mastered the bounty hunter who had successively captured important figures in the sect.
The gang boss is most likely the planner and operator.
"However, there is another possibility... But is this really possible...?"
Thinking of the bounty hunter who single-handedly sabotaged two of their missionary activities in less than a week and captured two important figures within the sect, Allen felt his heart tremble.
The conspiracy that looms all around, the real threat that is on the surface, is indeed more eye-catching.
"Only Behemoth can cause real losses to us and bring real destruction. So, which one of you is it..." Allen looked at his tired subordinates, and then at the building that was gradually
As he approached the town, he looked down at the armor given to him by the Shepherd, and thought, "No matter what, since we are here, there is no reason to turn back. I can't betray your trust in me."
and love.”
Wearing armor, he rode on a pure-blooded horse, like a general from the Middle Ages. He raised his right hand and waved lightly, and the mighty team behind him followed him, heading towards the man like them.
The town seemed increasingly vulnerable in the face of armed men.
As the vast team gradually approached the railway near the town, Allen discovered that a young man in a suit and leather jacket, dressed like a gentleman, was riding an exaggeratedly large black horse, standing on the other side of the railway, seemingly waiting for their arrival.
.
Allen immediately raised his right hand to signal the team to stop advancing, and then made a more complicated arrangement. The team behind him gradually divided into three groups: left, middle and right. The left and right groups quietly moved away from the center and headed toward the other two groups in the town.
Go in a roundabout way.
He gently pinched the horse's belly with his legs, and the blood-colored purebred horse under his crotch walked towards the young gentleman who looked leisurely and contented.
The horse's hooves stopped at the railway track. Allen raised his head slightly and looked at the young gentleman. For some reason, those bright green eyes made him feel slightly uncomfortable.
After a short silence, Allen took the initiative and asked: "You are the bounty hunter."
"'Angel Eyes,'" the young gentleman said with a smile, "So, you are the 'shepherd'?"
"You think too highly of yourself. To deal with you, I don't need His Excellency to take action personally." Allen's tone was calm and calm, just like when he usually preached to the congregation.
"So," the young gentleman known as "Angel Eyes" even leisurely lit a cigar, took a puff, and said, "You have to let me know who you are, right? You are hiding in that turtle shell, I think
I can’t see your face clearly.”
"Just call me Allen," Allen said, ignoring the provocative behavior and words of the person in front of him, "Did you do what happened last night?"
"How about my meeting gift?" "Angel Eyes" asked with a smile.
Allen's tone became a little cold: "That Excellency is right, you are indeed a threat."
"Yes, because I've set my sights on you," "Angel Eyes" said casually, "After today's battle, you will be mine. Do you want to know how much you are worth?"
"I think I will never have the honor to know." Allen sneered.
"Oh, no, you will know, because I always like to stay alive." "Angel Eyes" said while smoking a cigar.
"That depends on whether you have the ability." Allen's tone returned to its previous calmness.
"Angel Eyes" seemed to have heard some joke, laughed twice, and then said: "Of course I don't have that ability. How can one person confront more than a hundred people alone?"
Immediately, he stretched out his hand, showed Allen Valentine with simple fortifications behind him, and said, "But, I have a small town."
"What about a small town? Does this town have more than twenty police officers?" Allen said disdainfully. He still knew very well the police force of an ordinary American small town.
"Guess what, my dear Mr. Allen," "Angel Eyes" said in a joking tone, "but I think you would rather experience it for yourself, right?"
"You will die in pain in the fire of our judgment." Allen's tone became serious. This was him giving an ultimatum to the man in front of him.
"The momentum is good," "Angel Eyes" commented, "Finally, let me guess, who should fire the first shot of this battle?"
Allen was just about to speak when he saw the person in front of him pull out the revolver from his waist very quickly. After the gunshot, his helmet also made a "ding" sound, which made his head feel dizzy. When he reacted,
By that time, the man had already run towards the town on horseback.
Allen straightened his helmet, which was a little crooked by the shot, gritted his teeth, and waved his right hand fiercely.
In the team behind him, an Indian believer with traditional tribal tattoos on his face suddenly let out a long and shrill cry, which was the war cry of his original tribe.
A group of people wearing white or yellow robes, holding various firearms and even bows, arrows, machetes, hand axes and other cold weapons then roared, shouted, and said some inexplicable but religious words. They rushed frantically.
He moved his horse and charged into the town.
For a time, almost all sides of the town were filled with such shouts, almost drowning this small town.
But soon, the violent explosions that were more shocking than these shouts suppressed the noise caused by these invaders in an extremely arrogant way. No matter which way, as long as the people rushing at the front were almost all blown up
A shocking ending.
In the "Seventh Generation" sect, almost everyone's horses were frightened. Horses that have not received professional training in the army will absolutely not be able to suppress the huge sound, dazzling fire and heavy explosion in the face of such a level of explosion.
The smell of gunpowder smoke and blood brought about the ultimate fear.
As a result, the horses that were lucky enough not to be bombed at the front all neighed wildly in unison, mercilessly throwing the people on their backs underneath them, and fled for their lives.
Because this explosion was obviously more earth-shattering than ordinary explosions, the horses at the back also became agitated. The riders on their backs spent a lot of effort and failed to calm them down. They could only dismount and walk towards the small road.
Come to town.
At this time, Valentine, Dutch, who was hiding behind the frontmost bunker, stood up, held his two Schofield revolvers in his hands, and shouted: "It's time, guys, let's
Let's kick the ass of these bitches like bastards!"
As soon as he finished speaking, gunshots rang out from commanding heights throughout the town, and the few cultists who rushed to the front were instantly knocked down.
"Great job!" Dutch praised loudly, not because of anything else, but because the people who had just knocked down several cultists with sniper rifles from the commanding heights were brothers from the Van der Linde gang.
At the same time, gunshots were heard all over the town, and a battle destined to be recorded in the history of this town officially began.
If there is any difference between cultists and ordinary people, it must be their abnormal but extremely firm beliefs.
Because of this belief, they are able to do many things that ordinary people cannot.
For example, after experiencing a shocking explosion that would definitely scare away any normal person, you can still shout slogans that outsiders cannot understand, walk through the smoke-filled craters, step on the broken corpses of your companions, and charge forward desperately.
For example, even when faced with a hail of bullets—even though most of them were drawn on the human body—they still charged like those Indians who maintained their ancient fighting habits.
It is worth noting that many of them even hold primitive weapons such as machetes, hand axes, and bows and arrows like the Indians. Some of them are even Indians.
Even the veteran Van der Linde gang rarely encountered such a desperate enemy, let alone the Valentine police who were only responsible for the security of the town and the ordinary townspeople who had only learned how to shoot in the past two days.
Therefore, even though they had the upper hand, even though they had the advantage at home, and even though their opponents didn't even get a good night's sleep yesterday, after the two sides actually fought, Valentine's side briefly had the upper hand.
After that, the two sides fell into a stalemate, and the outer defense line, mainly composed of the police and some townspeople with slightly better marksmanship, gradually shrank into the town under the desperate attack of the cultists.
As the boss of the Van der Linde gang, Dutch never looks like a boss in battles because he always rushes to the front. Maybe it’s because he has extreme confidence in his marksmanship and skills, or maybe he knows that no matter what he does,
No matter how he wanders, his brothers can protect him, but now, he, who is standing at the front, has to fight and retreat with the retreating team.
"Damn it! You bunch of idiots! You idiots!" Dutch fired three quick shots. The three cultists in front of him who were shouting and wielding machetes were directly shot through the throat, and they could only cover their necks with blood gushing out.
Staggering to the ground, he fired wildly at a seemingly endless stream of enemies while cursing, "Why are you retreating? How far has this fight gone? You are worse than those brats in O'Drisco!"
He was scolding vigorously, but he didn't notice that a cultist had already aimed his bow and arrow at him.
The next second, the cultist's head was like a kiwi fruit that had been stepped on and smashed to pieces by a shotgun bullet.
Brandi, who was driving a huge black horse and pushing a new bullet into the double-barreled shotgun in his hand, ran past Dutch and said: "Don't be too harsh on them, boss, don't forget, many of them yesterday
Only then did I know how to play with the gun."
"This is why I don't recruit people like Colm." Dutch muttered as he kicked a cultist who had rushed in front of him, then shot him in the head, and then continued to follow the group.
The troops retreated.
Ordinary people who have not received enough systematic training will still have some natural fear when faced with a group of cultists who have nothing left in their minds except deformed beliefs.
Originally, according to Dutch and Hosea's estimation, under their arrangement, they could keep at least half of the people on the opposite side outside the first line of defense forever, but the fact is that the battle started less than ten days ago.
In five minutes, they were forced into fierce street fighting, and at this time, they only consumed less than half of the enemy.
But now, in addition to the current situation of hard fighting, there is another problem that has always worried everyone in the Van der Linde Gang.
A feather arrow shot through the chest of a cultist holding a repeating rifle. The cultist staggered and fell, and the owner of the feather arrow, Charles, also fell off the roof of the tavern.
At this time, a short ax flew diagonally from behind him, and the ax blade cut through the air, making a terrible sound, and headed straight for Charles' head.
Charles turned slightly to let go of the axe. He turned his hand to the back and grasped the handle of the axe. He glanced at the cultist who seemed a little dumbfounded. The hatchet followed the trajectory of the previous flight.
He flew back and split open the cultist's Tianling Cap.
"Hey, Charles!" At this time, Javier came up, fired several shots at the enemies that kept coming up, and asked, "Daqi asked me to ask you, have you seen O'Drisco's people?
"
"No, Javier," Charles casually took out his pistol, smashed the head of a cultist who wanted to shoot him, and said, "They are all crazy people wearing strange clothes, and I actually saw Indians inside.
What a shame."
"This is not right," Javier said while covering Charles. "Logically speaking, there is no reason for Colm to only use these cultists as gunmen. He will definitely prepare a backup plan. Dutch asked us to pay attention to any unusual movements... Whew
Damn it! Charles, look!"
Hearing Javier's somewhat frightened cry, Charles looked in the direction he pointed.
I saw an armored train that must have some relationship with the government or the military slowly entering the Valentine train station. The train was very short, and the locomotive only had five cars, but the things it carried were eye-catching enough.
"What the hell, what happened?" Arthur, who still occupied the commanding heights, saw in the scope of the Carcano sniper rifle in his hand that the armored train was filled with more than twenty people holding sniper rifles.
A member of the O'Drisco gang, which also had two Gatling guns and even a mortar, couldn't help shouting, "Did Colm rob the U.S. Army? So many sniper rifles,
Where did he get Gatling and artillery?"
"Get down, get down!" Dutch's voice was a little more frightened at this time, "Damn it, Colm, he really has a back-up plan, what a big deal!"
On the armored train, an Austrian gang member who looked like the leader said to the gunner: "Just fire when you are ready, don't hesitate."
"But," the gunner said with some hesitation, "there are still our allies inside."
"I said, just open fire," the leading Austrian gang member said in a strong tone, "and this is also what the boss means, do you understand?"
"I understand, I understand." The gunner shuddered and hurriedly began to load the machine in front of him, for fear of losing time.