In the past, the marksmen of the Bastille were able to overwhelm the Andis mountain people, relying on their own equipment advantages. They not only had finely crafted military bows, but also exquisite studded leather armor, coupled with abundant logistical supplies, they could fight far away.
It is beyond the reach of the helpless Andis mountain people.
Now the situation has been fundamentally reversed. The equipment carefully crafted and designed by Sean and the Boy Army is superior to that of the Bastille soldiers and is comprehensive in every aspect.
Let’s just say that this military ration meat jerky fully considers nutritional issues. Although each standard military ration only weighs ten pounds, it is enough to support an adult hunter’s high-intensity consumption for a week.
Behind them there are several mobile supply stations to replenish them with various supplies.
The soldiers of the Bastille have become rootless duckweeds this time. Although the large forces of the Bastille are advancing continuously behind and can provide them with certain assistance, the military supplies they bring out this time are certain.
Sometimes you are afraid of your own hands and feet, and it is inevitable to suffer losses.
The arrows they carry with them are often used up within a few minutes, and they don't have the ability of Andis mountain people to use local materials. In the end, they either engage in hand-to-hand combat or are chased around like rabbits.
The final result is usually not very good. If you are completely exposed, you will only attract more stalkers. In the end, being beaten to death is considered a small thing. If you accidentally expose your companions, you will die.
A bunch of them.
The sharpshooter Arnold was tracking was caught in this situation. Half a day ago, the opponent had cunningly killed a carbine and collided with Arnold.
The fight between the two became intense in an instant, and it took the nervous marksman just three minutes to empty the two pots of arrows he carried.
The opponent's archery skills are definitely worthy of the name of a sharpshooter. Not only does he have super arrow speed, but his accuracy is also amazing, especially the arrow when the two met head-on. Even thinking about it now, Arnold is filled with fear.
Just when he was stunned, the opponent's arrow appeared in front of him like a shooting star. He only had time to lower his head and was hit. Arnold felt like he had been hit hard on the forehead, and his neck was almost out of place.
, the newly issued helmet saved his life. The arrow only barely penetrated three layers of cowhide, with insufficient stamina and only scratched the skin.
"The unshot arrows are the most threatening. As an excellent archer, you should always keep the last arrow in your quiver."
When the young leader of the Bastille talked about archers, this theory left a deep impression on Arnold. This theory is not considered profound. Every old hunter with some experience has experience in this area, but he has never
No one has summarized them in pithy words.
Arnold hasn't had time to prove the latter statement, but the current situation has proven the correctness of the previous statement.
When they first exchanged shots, Arnold consciously controlled the speed of his arrows. Each shot was not so much about killing the enemy as it was about luring the opponent to waste arrows. When the opponent's arrow pot was empty, he would have no choice but to flee.
What else can be done?
In close combat, there is no chance.
Arnold still had at least a pot and a half of arrows, and his shooting skills were even better than his opponent's. If the opponent really dared to leave the cover and rush over, he would tell him with facts what the humanoid hedgehog looked like.
The rest is a game of cat and mouse.
The sharpshooter who had lost his arrows fled in front, and Arnold chased behind him. During the chase, he even recovered some of the arrows from both sides.
Those who escape are very cautious, and those who chase are even more cautious. As an excellent old hunter, Arnold is very aware of how terrifying the beasts that take casualties are, let alone humans.
What Arnold has to do now is to follow the opponent slowly and drive him away until he is exhausted, and then shoot a fatal arrow. In the process, he must also divide his rest time reasonably so that
Don’t let your energy and physical strength fall below the passing mark.
One wrong step, one wrong step.
The marksman who panics and chooses a path is like a headless fly. When pressed, he involuntarily starts to move closer to his known companions, hoping to use the help of his companions to get rid of the lingering trouble behind him.
But he soon discovered that his companions were in bigger trouble than he was. Not only were there enemies behind him, but he was also injured. The most serious injury was to his leg. Injuring his leg during guerrilla warfare was no different than losing his life.
This sharpshooter didn't have any political spirit. He didn't care about friendship and turned around, walking faster than a rabbit.
In the face of threats of life and death, people's sentiments can become very high, and they can sacrifice their lives for others. This is the behavior of a saint, but such people are rare. They are more common people and villains who are desperate for their own survival.
The threat of a panicked sharpshooter is still limited, but when this situation occurs with a dozen or even dozens of people, the outcome of this outpost is no longer a matter of course.
The victory of the outpost battle is not measured by how many people the opponent kills, but how much useful information the opponent's sentinels can bring back.
With the marksman unit suppressed, Old Burton became completely blind. Until he was only a dozen miles away from the Bastille, he still knew nothing about its internal situation. This was undoubtedly very passive.
As for imitating Sean's original night attack, don't even think about it. Not to mention that Sean had been prepared for it. After the old Bolton took back the sharpshooter, the ghosts of Andis mountain people continued to haunt the army.
, and shoot a cold arrow from time to time.
Because the distance was too far and the bow used by the opponent was too weak, it did not cause many casualties, but it was unable to hold the enemy back, but there was nothing they could do.
It wasn't that Old Bolton was reluctant to sacrifice his marksman troops, but that the supply of arrows couldn't keep up. If the outpost battle continued, they would have to bite the bullet in subsequent siege battles.
Old Burton set up camp ten miles away from the Bastille. It was not that he did not want to get closer, but that all obstacles within ten miles of the Bastille had been demolished by him, and there were a large number of weeds half as tall as a man. This was prepared for the Bastille.
The first line of defense.
If Andis mountain people formed a large army, they would be pissed off by a handful of people without knowing it. Who would have thought that the obstacles and traps originally set for the enemy would now become their biggest obstacle.
The way to break this obstacle is very simple, it only requires a fire, but this fire cannot be burned out in a day and a half. Originally this was one of the tasks of the marksman, but I didn't expect to be oppressed so miserably.
Couldn't touch it.
"The person who came up with this method is definitely a genius." Sean looked at the raging fire outside the city and sighed sincerely. If it hadn't been for Old Bolton's initiative to set the fire, he would never have imagined that the weeds outside the city were part of the city's defense.
This makes Sean secretly awe-inspiring. No matter how smart he is, he is only one person and cannot cover everything. Although the Youth Army is outstanding, it is only the king of the mountains. There are still considerable limitations in terms of knowledge and experience.
The wisdom of people in this world, especially the wisdom of war, must not be underestimated. What's more, the castle they are currently stationed in belongs to others. When it comes to understanding this castle, it is beyond the capabilities of Sean and the others who have been stationed there for just one week.
Comparable.
"So what if you're a genius? He's not useless in front of us." I don't know if it's because they took down the Bastille or because Sean helped them replace their equipment with new ones.
During this time, Skullcrusher McGee was a little overconfident, as if there was nothing in the world that he couldn't solve, and he didn't even pay attention to the incoming old Bolton.
Sean did not attack McGee's excessive self-confidence. After all, McGee's current role was that of a warrior who charged into battle. He rarely interfered with decision-making opinions. Being confident enough could boost the morale of his subordinates, and the advantages outweighed the disadvantages.
Throwing a sheepskin scroll to Mikey, Sean said: "Look, this is the letter of challenge sent to us by the Lord of Bolton City."
"Did you do it on purpose? You know that I get a headache when I see these earthworm-like things. They know me, but I don't know them!" Skullcrusher Mikey stared at the bull's eyes and turned the parchment scroll over and over.
I couldn't even find which side was up or down.
"Reading and literacy are necessary. I will send someone to give you tutoring in the future." After this time of fighting side by side, Sean and McGee's relationship became even closer.
These years of subtle influence have finally taken effect, and McGee has a certain sense of recognition of Sean's views. In other words, the capture of the Bastille allowed him to vent most of the hatred accumulated in his heart. He no longer lives entirely for hatred, and is no longer as stubborn as before.
Taking advantage of the excitement, I naturally want to further strengthen the relationship between the two parties.
For now, he is still using Skullcrusher's tiger flag very smoothly, and this current cooperation can definitely continue for a few more years.
This is also a helpless choice. After all, this is also an era where looks are judged, but what matters is not handsomeness, but who is more mature and who is more trustworthy.
Sean's too young and handsome face was no match for Mikey, who had a fierce and mature face.
In real terms, although Skullcrusher McGee has been famous for a long time, his real age is not very old, only around 27 or 28, but he looks like 46 or 7.
"Isn't it about you?" Mikey was not a fan of literacy, and it was full of painful memories.
With his fingers thicker than carrots, he held the quill like an embroidery needle. He would rather swing the ax a hundred times than write a single word with that thing.
"I'm not your maid. How can I be with you day and night? Let's not talk about nonsense like reading and literacy can develop IQ. I will send someone to send you a sealed letter in the future. I can't find someone to help you interpret it.
?" Sean glared at McGee.
"Don't talk nonsense about having a literate person next to you. Many times, the people who give you a fatal blow from behind are the people you are closest to and most trust. Some things must be in your own hands. That's it. In the future, not only
If you want to be literate, even the Skull Crusher Legion should conduct literacy classes to try to get rid of the situation where the entire battalion cannot read a single big character."
"Okay!" Mikey was a little lazy at first, but when he heard that the entire battalion was going to suffer with him, he felt much better.
He didn't care what special meaning literacy had for those big-headed soldiers. "Even if it means literacy, that's a matter for later. Let's talk about what's written on it first!"
…
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