In the northern part of the province of Genoa, an army of about 600 people is walking on the fields. This is the vanguard of the Genoa Civil Defense Force. They are the frontline station. The entire Civil Defense Force must arrive under the Otter Mountains before May 1.
Fort Putnam.
It was already summer in the south at this time, and these soldiers were sweating and depressed. This was even the first time they walked out of the military camp. One can imagine what kind of marching formation they would have.
Although he had already anticipated various accidents and made various preparations for them, such as taking as much rest as possible, setting up more shelters, and equipping more army carriages and large animals to reduce the burden on the soldiers, Herbert -
Wells still found many soldiers left behind.
This is only a five-day journey for 600 people.
Wells did not think that these soldiers were sneaky and cunning. On the contrary, these soldiers were hard-working, honest and obedient to orders. This changed his inherent concept as a northerner - southerners are cowardly and cunning, not soldiers.
material.
But no matter how good the resources are, an army without sufficient training cannot withstand the test, even if it is just marching.
According to the original plan, long-distance marching training is also one of the necessary trainings. This is also a complex system of work, involving reconnaissance, route selection, defense, supply, camping and other related military activities.
But the departure of the viscount and subsequent orders from the north interrupted everything.
As the chief instructor, Wells had to prioritize shooting training and line tactics training.
The former is completely fed by ammunition. When there is sufficient ammunition, the soldiers' performance is acceptable. Line tactics training is not satisfactory. Wells can only ensure that they barely complete his instructions on the training ground.
Unlike the worried Wells, Viscount Brandon, the supreme commander of the Civil Defense Force who accompanied the army, was in high spirits.
Wells even wanted to know how the nearly sixty-year-old Viscount maintained such high energy.
I have to admit that Viscount Brandon is in great shape. Even though he is riding a horse all the time, it is not something ordinary people can do to keep his body upright.
But the old Viscount's impromptu orders from time to time left Wells with nothing to do. He liked to review the soldiers when they were camping, and he liked the majestic and exaggerated appearance of the review. At this time, what the soldiers needed most was rest.
Fortunately, the Otter Mountains have arrived, and this vanguard is already walking in the hilly areas on the southern edge of the Otter Mountains.
After resting here for one night, we expect to arrive at our destination at Fort Putnam - a military fortress guarding a pass into the Otter Mountains at noon tomorrow.
Taking advantage of the sunset, Wells ordered the troops to camp on the spot.
He is equivalent to the position of chief of staff, with a team of junior officers and non-commissioned officers serving as various staff officers. The military flag is planted on a hill with a wide view.
A shepherd's thatched hut on the hills was used as the headquarters, and it was also Viscount Brandon's residence tonight.
The four companies were arranged around the headquarters, and each company arranged tents in a horizontal row. At the head of each row was a wooden sign with the name of the company commander written on it.
There is a gun harness on the right side of the wooden sign, and the rifles are neatly placed. The horses are at the rear of the camp, with horse tethering racks. There is a dedicated person responsible for washing and feeding the horses. The ammunition cart accompanying the army is slightly further behind, also
Arrange a dedicated person to take care of it.
Simple fortifications were arranged on the outside of the camp, and trenches were even painstakingly dug and trip wires set up. Everything was just like in wartime.
These soldiers had not received relevant training, but fortunately they worked hard and were able to complete the arrangement within the specified time.
After Wells had arranged sentries, patrols and mutual communication matters, night had fallen and most of the soldiers had already had dinner.
Viscount Brandon was not in the mood to review the soldiers today. He ate some dry bread with wine and then fell asleep.
It seems that he is also very tired.
"Report!" the adjutant reported outside the tent.
"Come in." Wells was eating at this time.
"Sir, two soldiers who went out on patrol today did not come back. They went out at five o'clock," the adjutant said.
Wells looked at his pocket watch. It was now half past seven in the evening: "Are you lost?"
So far, there have been no deserters, but quite a few have gotten lost for various reasons. Marching in the wild and in unfamiliar areas, such things are often unavoidable. But often the lost soldiers are found again the next day.
These soldiers did not deserve to be deserters at the moment, and their endurance was beyond Wells' expectations.
"What they lack is enough training and time." Wells thought.
"Tomorrow at 5 o'clock, you send a few people to look for them, but they must return to the camp before 7:30." Wells ordered.
"Yes!" the adjutant responded.
Five kilometers away from the temporary camp of the Civil Defense Force, the two missing soldiers mentioned by Adjutant Wells were squatting on the ground shivering.
Wolf, the werewolf, was fiddling with the rifled gun in his hand, clicking his tongue:
"It's a really sophisticated weapon. It's much better than what those militiamen in San Nuve have. Compared with this new rifle, they just have fire sticks in their hands."
Standing next to him were clearly his kind, more than 50 werewolves. They were all tall and strong, energetic, and ready to move.
Wolf is their king.
"King, the rifle is not a convenient weapon for our protoss. In my opinion, it is not as useful as an axe. I like the feeling of using a giant ax to chop off the heads of those farmers."
The speaker was a werewolf holding a giant ax named Arthur.
But both Wolf and Arthur mean powerful warriors in the werewolf context. They have no surnames, only first names.
"Arthur, whether it is a rifle or a giant axe, it is just a type of weapon. We must admit that rifles give humans a great advantage, especially when they line up in horizontal lines. Of course we will not line up to shoot against them in the same way.
, that would highlight their huge numerical advantage."
Wolf put the rifle on his back and continued: "Compared with the rifle, I want to get gunpowder so that we can make grenades ourselves, so that we don't have to run rampant when facing dense human lines. You can imagine
In a moment, we are here
When we are 200 meters away from the enemy, we light the grenade and start charging. We have already thrown the grenade before the enemy fires. The grenade will explode above their heads, causing them disaster. When they think the disaster is over, we
The giant ax has already struck through."
Arthur listened with fascination: "The enemy that is five times, no, ten times the size will quickly collapse."
"Yes, the number of our protoss has been unable to increase, so we are naturally at a disadvantage. This world was originally ours, at least half of it." Wolf said.
In human legends, the ancestors of werewolves were originally humans. Because they could not withstand the temptation and secretly drank the devil's wine, they turned into werewolves. They were cruel and bloodthirsty, betrayed humans, and became enemies of humans.
In the oral history of werewolves, werewolves and humans were brothers. They came to the world on the same dragon boat and fought against nature and beasts together. However, humans were treacherous and betrayed the wolf brothers who once fought side by side with them.
Relying on the advantage of large numbers of people, they later killed all the werewolves, and only a small number of werewolves escaped into the mountains to survive.
No one can tell where these two legends came from, but it at least shows that there must have been a deep relationship between werewolves and humans.
After a hundred years of dormancy, the wolf clan has become strong again. Rather than the hatred and wild instinct in the blood, it is more a matter of practical necessity.
In order to avoid being hunted by humans, the wolves migrated westward along the Otter Mountains, where there are inaccessible snow-capped mountains and primeval forests, where the wolves finally found a place to rest.
But the gradually developing ethnic groups needed more food, so they had to return to the east to compete for more space for survival.
At first they gained a lot, and the residents of Saint Nuve were defenseless. However, when militia groups were formed in various places, the werewolves began to suffer losses, especially when they were alone.
Wolf and his men realized the power of gunpowder weapons. A rifle was not scary, but when dozens or hundreds of rifles lined up in a horizontal line, the werewolves had to turn around. They could not compete with humans in numbers.
As the leader, Wolf was very wise. He felt that the werewolves also needed to change their tactics, so he thought of grenades because he accidentally saw the earthen bombs made by Sanuwei's militiamen.
It was a dumb bomb that cracked Wolf's head. Now that I think about it, it was really lucky.
This kind of weapon is more suitable for werewolves than a rifle. So he made a deal with some mysterious figure in Genoa who took the initiative to get together, and the other party provided him with a piece of information.
A Genoese civil defense force that has not been fully trained will go to Putnam Castle one day carrying a large amount of gunpowder, and even has a marching route map with several locations conducive to a surprise attack marked.
As a leader and king, Wolf is much more cautious. He will not completely trust a human with ulterior motives.
Although there are only fifty people around Wolf, there are more werewolves within a hundred miles to serve as eyes. The northern part of Genoa is an area extended by the Otter Mountains, mostly hills and hills, which provides an excellent environment for werewolves.
Good cover and hiding place.
It was quiet at night, except for the occasional snort of horses and a few soldiers talking.
Wells had trouble sleeping tonight, which was a strange phenomenon. He was distracted tonight, even though it was not the first time since leaving the military camp in Vichy that soldiers had disappeared.
Wells simply got dressed and walked out of his tent. The night in the mountainous area was a bit cold, and several specially lit bonfires brought some warmth.
Suddenly, there was a commotion in the direction of the stables, followed by someone screaming. Wells saw some dark figures moving quickly, and when he got closer, he realized something was wrong.
Someone drove frightened horses and large animals into the military camp, knocking over the tents. Then there were screams.
"Enemy attack!"
"Enemy attack!"
These soldiers, who had only been in uniform for more than three months, had no idea what war was really like. Everyone, including Wells, only thought that this was an armed march, although Wells had always
Emphasize that it must be carried out in accordance with military drills.
In the chaos, the ugly faces of the werewolves frightened the soldiers, while the giant axes in their hands ruthlessly harvested lives.
More soldiers were hacked to death before they even understood the situation.
A werewolf rushed towards him. The werewolf's face under the firelight was extremely terrifying. Wells drew his sword and bravely faced him.
In the battle between a giant ax and a saber, Wells did not confront his opponent head-on. Wells, who had fought in northern Xinjiang, skillfully dodged the opponent's axe, stabbed with his backhand and inserted the tip of the knife into his opponent's waist.
He still had time to stab Wells deeply, but his opponent resisted the huge pain, twisted around, and slashed towards Wells's back.
In his haste, Wells quickly fell down to avoid the fatal blow. The werewolf suddenly froze, and then collapsed, with hot blood spurting from his neck.
Viscount Brandon appeared on the scene and chopped down Wells' opponent with his own hands.
The two of them looked at each other. In the firelight, their eyes were filled with shock. Even now, they still couldn't believe what they were seeing.
The soldiers were screaming, some were wailing, some were crying, and more people were running away.
"I am Viscount Brandon, come closer to me!"
Brandon yelled, and his guards gathered with him immediately because they were close to him and did not suffer any losses.
In this chaotic battlefield, they became the beacon of light on the isolated island, and soldiers from different companies moved closer to them.
At this time, someone in the two companies in the front was finally organized. They joined the two top commanders, and their morale was slightly improved. However, many people had no weapons in their hands, and most of them were even barefoot.
However, after the werewolf succeeded in the raid, they also gathered together. They held giant axes and rushed towards Viscount Brandon and others.
No matter how old and strong Viscount Brandon is, and no matter how experienced Wells is, the rookie subordinates they barely gathered can't stop the werewolf's attack at all.
At the moment of contact, the Civil Defense Force collapsed.
In the chaos, Wells and Viscount Brandon were separated.
In the Otter Mountains.
In the dense forest, the sun shone through the treetops. An ant was working hard to carry food. Wells stared at the ant for a while, until a pair of big feet stepped on the ant under the soles of his feet.
The owner of these big feet belongs to Wolf. Yes, Wells was taken prisoner, and he was accompanied by twenty other soldiers. The only good news is that Viscount Brandon actually managed to escape, but I heard that
He was also seriously injured.
"I heard you are their leader?" Wolf smoked a cigarette, which was one of his trophies.
"Yes." Wells wanted to stand up, but Arthur put a giant ax on his shoulder, forcing him to continue squatting on the ground. He could even smell the smell of blood from the axe.
.
"Five of us died, which is of course insignificant compared to your losses. But even so, I decided to let you captives be my slaves. You must make your men obedient, otherwise I will cut you off for every person who escapes.
An ear or a nose."
Wolf blew a series of smoke rings, and it seemed that he was very good at it.
"But he only has two ears and one nose." Arthur said.
"And the tongue, and this..." Wolf kicked Wells' crotch humiliatingly.
Wells' face turned red and extremely angry.
"No, no." Wolf shook the wolf's head, "Don't think about resisting, we are very good at dealing with slaves. Those people also wanted to escape at first, but after some training by us, those people became 'wooden'.
"
Soon after, Wells saw the so-called "wood", which was a group of tortured slaves who were not humanoid. They were like walking zombies. Apart from working non-stop, they had lost their thoughts.
It can be seen from the tatters on these people that they may have been farmers, businessmen, landowners, or even priests.
Wells was imprisoned in a cellar, and there was already a guest inside.
That man was quite clean, completely different from the slaves outside, except that his beard covered the lower half of his face. This man was even in the mood to joke:
"Welcome, this is the Mountain Villa, free to stay. I am Percy Robinson!"