At the sentry tower outside the royal city, the sky had darkened, and rain and strong winds were sweeping across the valley.
Saint Vera sat among the ruins on the highest floor of the watchtower, with a palm oil torch burning next to her.
Her headache has subsided recently, as if she had taken medication.
"My time is numbered."
Suddenly, this idea popped up and took root in her mind.
When she was thinking about her life, there was a sound of trotting, and her attendant Allen ran to her side panting. He hugged the holy sword Vivaldo and shouted in a tired voice:
"Miss!"
The weight of the holy sword is very heavy even for a man like Allen to hold it. Carrying him and running up the tower is already a very heavy task.
The corner of Miss Saint's lips curled up a little:
"What do you want from me?"
Allen, who looked handsome, gasped and shook his head:
"It's Mr. Amos. He's calling you to attend tonight's military meeting. The command needs to know your thoughts about how the guards of the decadent kingdom have become tenacious and cunning in the past few days. At the same time, Mr. Amos also
He warned you that you haven't had a meal with the sergeants for a long time, and he was worried that you seemed withdrawn."
The enemy is as tenacious as the local defenders they faced on the first day they rose up.
But this is indeed very unusual. Although Miss Saint thinks that she is just a village girl, she still feels something is wrong after being in the battlefield for a long time.
Generally speaking, if an army is besieged, their morale will become increasingly sluggish and weaker. Even if they are well-equipped and trained, they will easily be pushed down by villagers and farmers who cannot wear heavy armor.
kill.
But obviously, the soldiers of the decadent kingdom of Gregos have become different. They have regained their morale.
Saint Vera thought this way, looking at the royal city through the rain curtain with her blue eyes.
The magnificent city gate is slowly pushed open, and the gate to the magnificent city that only exists in the countryside is opening!
Rows of unlit torches and rows of some kind of strange army poured out of the gate.
In the rain, in the strong wind, on this night when the rebel leaders gathered in River Valley Town for a meeting, the troops from the royal city came out in full force!
How dare they?
This sentence flashed in Vera's mind. A night attack is not a simple matter. Legendary hero novels will not tell that 20 of one's own troops may die due to accidents during a night attack, let alone describe how even if they have
Even if there is sufficient light, an army of 13 will be disoriented, let alone a night attack of 90, which will result in the collapse of one's own army.
But this does not mean that night raids are not dangerous.
In Testenango, in the ancient battles described by grandparents, more than 70 Jedi counterattacks almost all started with a night attack, and more than 95 troops fell on the eve of victory because of
The night attack failed.
Saint Vera squinted her eyes and looked at the torches pouring out of the city gate and the dense number of marching troops.
"It's a night attack!" When the attendant Allen saw that the saint didn't reply, he was stunned for a while before he noticed the troops pouring out of the gate of the royal city.
The young attendant's eyes widened:
"It's so fast, they are marching very fast!"
The attendant did not estimate the enemy's marching speed, so he was lifted up by the saint with one hand.
Vera glanced at him and rushed down the guard tower at a rapid speed.
The marching speed is three times, no, four times that of the ordinary army. The formation is very neat. There are no torches in the darkness to show that they are lost. Is it a truly strong army? Or is it some kind of witchcraft or evil saint who throws the attendants on the horse?
, she also turned over and jumped up. She put the reins into the attendant's hand:
"Go to the river valley, we have to tell the commander the crisis information."
She stared in the direction of the royal city:
"The wind and rain are so strong that the flames of palm oil cannot ignite the beacon fire."
"Yes." After a brief period of confusion, Allen took control of the reins and skillfully controlled the horse's speed to rush toward the river valley.
Because the saint always marched in armor, and the weight of the Holy Sword Vivaldu, plus the weight of an adult man, the best horse in the entire rebel army was also given to the saint to use.
It is a breed called the Westward Land Horse, which is very wild and difficult to control.
It is precisely because of this that Allen is chosen as the rider.
After all, Saint Vera has always been an ordinary village girl. She is a bit strong at best. She does not have the conditions to learn to ride a horse, so she can only arrange for a noble child who has learned equestrian skills since childhood to carry her around.
Attendant Aaron has been an expert in equestrian training since childhood. Even in the wind and rain, he steadily increased his speed and headed towards the river valley.
River Valley Town is named after the narrow valley in front of it. It should have been part of the royal city's defense system and part of the barrier that separated the four territories.
The royal city is easy to defend but difficult to attack, which means that if its defense nodes are mastered, it will be more difficult for the people in the city to break out.
The long and narrow river valley is the best defense point. Only a few hundred people need to be deployed to resist an army of 10,000 people.
The command of the rebel army is also considered to be battle-tested, and the most elite troops are placed at the mouth of the river valley to avoid being attacked.
"We're here!" Allen shouted. The troops that poured out of the royal city and had unnatural marching efficiency put great pressure on him.
Suddenly, he felt a light touch on his back, and the speed of the horse he was riding became faster.
He turned around in confusion, only to see Verakin and the white cloak, and the back of the saint jumping up to pull out Vivaldo.
boom.
Vera knelt on one knee, stood up with his sword in hand and shouted:
"Go and tell Amos, tell Julius, I'm here to meet the enemy!"
The originally relaxed expressions of the soldiers guarding the mouth of the river valley turned serious. They picked up their shields and jumped from the tents on both sides of the river valley.
A young soldier looked at the saint and said calmly:
"Lord Vera, is this an enemy attack?"
He handed over a huge round shield.
After Vera put it on, she nodded seriously:
"There may be more than 10,000 people, all of whom are elites. They march very fast on rainy days, and they may have the power of witchcraft."
A veteran was also tying a shield on himself, and he laughed when he heard the saint's words:
"Haha, it seems we are likely to die here today?"
Vera nodded again:
"There is a high probability that we will recruit the defenders from the valley. We will meet the enemy at the mouth of the valley and then retreat into the middle of the valley. Where are the fixed ballistas deployed?"
The veteran tapped his shield with the hilt of his sword:
"And Wizard Fire and Wizard Exploder."
"There are about six to seven hundred of us, Saint."
Vera's heart calmed down. In this violent storm, in this battlefield where the number and type of enemies were unknown, her mind was unexpectedly calm and clear.
The fragrance, tranquility, and shadow of approaching death on the battlefield made her unconsciously intoxicated.
The battlefield is undoubtedly hell.
Any behavior that praises the battlefield is the most egregious behavior.
Don't pursue war, don't pursue war. These are the words spoken by Vera's parents, their ancestors from an earlier generation.
They say the battlefield is evil.
Then why, I smell the sweet smell? Vera leaned against the shield and looked towards the jungle outside the river valley, the dark world.
For a moment, she suddenly thought of something and lowered her head.
Her excellent eyesight and ability to see in the dark allowed her to see herself clearly in the puddle.
