When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 721 The Shepherd and the Sheep Thief

Looking in the direction of the young recruit, old Laffer's previously lazy body suddenly tensed up.

Dust rose at the end of the wasteland, and the sound of horns and the rumbling of horse hooves rang out at the same time.

The fiery red or white fox tail danced on the iron helmet, the deerskin gloves held the riding bow, and the white feather arrows in the quiver danced with the long wind and the horse's hooves.

More than fifty elite light cavalrymen surrounded the enemy in a fan-shaped formation.

Their mounts were smaller than the warhorses of the Thousand Valleys, but the colorful strips of cloth tied to their manes rustled in the wind like snakes.

"Sheep hunters are attacking! Enter the chariot formation to hide!" Captains Ten and Captains Hundred immediately shouted at the top of their lungs.

What followed was the flying whistle arrows from the group of gravel field horse bandits, and a series of sharp bone whistles resounded through the sky.

The shepherds on the hillside hurriedly picked up the lambs and hid behind rocks or in the bushes.

"The Shattered Stonemen are attacking, run!" Someone shouted, and the recruits fled in all directions like ants being poured with boiling water.

Old Laffer took two quick steps, intending to hide inside the Bear Gnawing Castle before the gate closed.

But before he could get close, the door slowly closed amid the officers' angry shouts.

"Damn it!" he cursed angrily, but unlike other recruits who cried and banged on the door, he simply turned back.

Jumping over the rye and sacks scattered on the ground, old Laffer took off the wolf hunting bow on his back and hid behind the carriage with his head in his hands.

Unfortunately, just as he hid behind the carriage, the young recruit grabbed the edge of the carriage and climbed onto it.

"Get down!" he roared and pulled the boy's trouser legs.

A crossbow arrow glided past the boy's hair, and the dull sound of it being nailed into the oak board was close at hand.

The young recruit fell to the ground, and a rain of arrows fell on the carriage deck almost at the same time, causing the entire carriage to shake.

One of the new recruits had no time to run away and was hit by an arrow in the back. He staggered forward two steps before spitting blood and falling to the ground.

In the open space in front of the valley, seven or eight new recruits were shot by arrows and lay on the ground, either dead or wounded, wailing.

With his ear pressed against the wheel, old Laffer paid no attention to the wounded soldier who was reaching out for help a few steps away, but silently put a hardwood arrow on the bowstring.

The grass in front of him began to vibrate, and the spears pierced through the captain of the Tenth Army who was blocking his way. The scimitars, which were swung into a silver whirlwind, swept across the chests, abdomens and backs of the recruits.

On the hard frozen soil, horses neighed, spears and scimitars collided, sparks flew.

The garrison veterans and brave new recruits took up their weapons and began to fight with the sheep thieves.

Seeing the horses approaching quickly from under the carriage, old Laffer bent down, just like when he once hid in an ice hole and pretended to be dead to lure the timberwolves.

"Shit digger!"

First the spear tips, then the horse heads, and finally the boot tips of the Gravel Plain cavalry.

The speed at which old Lavro kicked up shook the frost and snow. The bowstring bounced, and an arrow with an afterimage spun and trembled, accurately shooting into the cavalryman's unprotected thigh.

The sheep thief in the gravel field screamed, lost his balance for a moment, and subconsciously pulled the reins to slow down the horse.

Old Laffer pounced on him immediately.

He stretched out his right hand and just barely grabbed the hem of the sheep thief's clothes, and the sheep thief, who was already off balance, was pulled down.

But the sheep thief was very ruthless. He pulled out his scimitar and chopped at the top of old Laffer's head.

Old Laffer naturally dodged, but he held on to him tightly with his right hand and jumped up to try to strangle him.

But the sheep thief grabbed old Laffer by the collar with one hand, pressed his knee against his chest and abdomen, and actually used the force to throw him out.

His back hit the ground hard, and old Laffer screamed in pain. He covered his lower back and pushed his entire waist and abdomen forward, convulsing in pain.

"Ah, damn that sheep guy...how could he be extraordinary..."

The sheep thief held his machete and grinned fiercely, shouting in the Gravel dialect which old Laffer could not understand.

Old Laffer gasped and tried to turn over, but the sheep thief was like a frog. He pounced on him and pressed on his waist before he could stand up.

The two men fought on the frozen soil and dry grass, their foreheads and arms were hit on the jagged gravel, leaving bloody wounds. It was obviously old Laffer who took the initiative, but he was suppressed by the sheep thief.

At this moment, old Laf was shocked and angry. These sheep thieves were the original bandits of Shishi, who made a living by stealing cattle, sheep, donkeys and horses.

Don't think that the bandits are strong in combat. Horn's previous experience in suppressing bandits in the cave forest has proved that only a small group of them are strong, and most of them are not even as good as the militia.

But the fighting ability of the sheep thief in front of him was obviously very different from that of ordinary people. Not only was he extraordinary, he even had superb martial arts.

Being pinned down by the sheep thief, no matter how hard Old Laffer tried and his face turned red, he could not stop the trembling scimitar from getting closer and closer to his neck.

Fortunately, the young recruit who was pulled off the top of the carriage by old Laffer reacted.

The young man from Hotham County jumped out like a mountain cat, and with a "whoosh", the rusty dagger immediately pierced into the sheep thief's back.

Gritting his teeth and twisting the dagger, the sheep thief let out a shrill wail, and he kicked out with his back foot, knocking the recruit over.

But the sheep thief, now exhausted, found it difficult to suppress old Laffer's resistance.

He snatched the sheep thief's knife, and in the narrow space filled with the smell of armpit odor and sheep, he used the scimitar to cut the sheep thief's throat.

Warm blood splashed on old Lavro's face, and the heavy and stunned corpse suddenly pressed down on him.

"Praise the Holy Wind!"

Just as old Laffer finally breathed a sigh of relief, a roar finally came from the watchtower.

The muzzle of the Falcon Cannon slowly turned, and the gears of the clockwork gun made a teeth-grinding friction sound.

The leader of the wilderness sheep bandits suddenly reined in his horse and prepared to flee, but a fan-shaped storm of iron sand and lead had already enveloped them.

Lying at the back of the carriage, the lead bullets swept across the sheep thieves who were taller than the others, and the bandits trembled like grass struck by hail.

The warm blood splashed on the cold rocks and instantly condensed into dark red snow crystals, almost merging with the red dragon blood moss.

“Woooaaaa (It’s a magic crossbow!)”

"Woo-hoo (Run!)"

Soon, the sound of retreating horses' hooves and cheers rang out simultaneously.

Sitting slumped on the wheat ground, with the dagger still trembling in the corpse, the young recruit turned over and sat up, staring blankly at old Laffer who had pushed the corpse away.

"You saved my life, boy." Bending down, old Laffer pulled out the dagger from the back of the corpse and threw it on the grass in front of the young recruit. "What's your name?"

The army respects capable people, and everything else takes a backseat, because surviving and winning on the battlefield are the most important things.

Human relationships are something that the senior monks of the Holy Court who are aloof from worldly affairs should consider.

The young man seemed to have just recovered from the bloody battle. He pulled out the dagger from the grass, stood up and shook hands with old Laffer: "My name is Kaler, what's yours, uncle?"

"Call me Old Laver. I should be about the same age as your parents. It's not wrong for you to call me Uncle Laver."

…………

This sudden attack was massive, but the actual casualties were only 20 to 30 people, and more than half of them were not killed or injured by the enemy.

Some slipped while trying to escape, some were accidentally injured by stray bullets, and many fled to the wilderness in panic and were taken away by sheep thieves as prisoners of war.

The remaining recruits were unable to rest properly, clean the battlefield, bandage the wounded, repair the spikes of the stakes, and hold a collective funeral.

People from the same hometown as the deceased either chose to cremate the body and send it back home by mail truck, or choose to bury it on the southern hillside.

Some recruits died outside Xiongkenbao before they even had time to register for the camp.

But to the commander of this bear-gnawing fort, this was just a minor episode.

After all, on the border lines of the Thorn Garden, Gravel Plain and Thousand River Valley, such frictions can only be regarded as insignificant small-scale frictions.

However, for old Laver, on the first day of arriving at Xiongjianbao, two familiar recruits from the same village could never return home again.

(End of this chapter)