When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 821: Battle of Marunpo (Part )
The centurion led by Kaler was the first to be attacked and suffered the most severe impact.

The dark winter clouds hang low, like a dull lead sheet, making it hard to breathe.

Behind the parapet of the fence, Kaler puffed on his exquisite pipe.

He found this pipe on a noble prisoner of war, and he has been using that bag of tobacco until now.

Exhaling a cloud of smoke, Kaler looked calmly at the enemy advancing ahead.

Since it was a positional battle relying on the camp, Victor did not organize the troops according to the large horizontal formation pattern of a field battle.

Instead, it is configured as a century-man team, including 20 holy lancers and 80 spearmen/axemen/halberdmen.

Victor himself and another respected centurion each led a fire brigade.

The reason for this configuration is that the troops are defending small positions one by one, and a large organization cannot be deployed.

"Don't be nervous!" Holding his pipe, Kaler glanced at the winter-sweaty Skitarii, "We are protected by the fence. It will be difficult to die as long as you are not afraid of death."

The Skitarii was helpless. He patted his makeshift armor and said, "If I had double armor like the Black Champion, I wouldn't be afraid of death."

Kaler smiled.

These Black Champion monks, especially those with spears and halberds, have a layer of fine chain mail inside in addition to a breastplate.

Although the cold penetrated into the bone marrow, everyone's breathing was still steady and strong.

Each of them has practiced three to four stages of knight breathing techniques, and their endurance and fighting will are far beyond those of ordinary soldiers in the Thousand River Valley.

Kaler wanted to continue chatting, but was interrupted by the war cry that was getting closer and closer.

The yellow robe fluttered in the cold wind, and the shield cart rolled over the snow on the muddy ground, making a dull creaking sound.

War cries exploded from the front row of the enemy camp:

"Wan Sheng!"

"Uru, wow!"

The sound waves gathered together, like some kind of fanatical religious ceremony.

Putting the pipe in his arms, Kaler slowly exhaled a breath of white air and tightened his grip on the knife.

The Black Champion Spear Monks behind him were already in position, with spears and halberds interlaced, forming a tight line of defense.

The Holy Gun Monks further back placed their muskets on the second-level low wall, with the muzzles pointed in the direction of the Leia soldiers' advance.

"Get ready!" he roared, flipped his palm, and slapped the back of the knife against the wooden wall.

With the sound of neat collisions, the entire position became tense in an instant, and all the soldiers were ready to fight back at the same time.

The first short ladder reached the fence, followed by the second and the third.

The charging Leia infantry climbed up, trying to break through the camp's defenses.

"Go to hell, you devil's lackey!"

With a ferocious roar on his face, Kaler took a step forward and the tip of the halberd in his hand accurately pierced the throat of the climbing soldier.

Blood gushed out, the sergeant's fingers twitched in the air, and he fell off the short ladder.

He slammed down on his companion, causing a crisp sound of broken bones.

At the same time, the second enemy soldier had climbed onto the breastwork and swung his axe at Kaler.

Kaler stepped back to avoid the oncoming axe blade, slashed the enemy's thigh with his backhand, then rushed sideways and knocked the opponent directly back out of the wall.

The charging waves seemed to hit a dam, stirring up blood-red foam and waves.

"There's a gap on the east side!" someone shouted.

"Fill it up!" Kaler's eyes turned, and he swung his saber violently, pointing at the gap.

The Holy Gunners reacted immediately. A Leia soldier had just climbed over the fence when a lead bullet pierced his forehead from a distance of ten meters, causing blood to splatter everywhere.

Before the body hit the ground, the Holy Gunner next to him had already drawn his saber and pounced on the enemy following closely behind.

The Leia people also reacted quickly. The Knights of the Imperial Order clad in silver armor had already appeared in the distance. They drew their bows and shot arrows accurately at the Holy Gunners who showed up on the battlefield.

"Be careful!" Kaler heard the sound of breaking air and suddenly lowered his body, while turning his saber over to block the incoming arrow.

Unfortunately, seven or eight soldiers still howled and fell down, covering their wounds from arrows.

"Holy Gunner, don't show your head! It's the Imperial Order Knights who are shooting arrows!"

The next moment, he heard the sound of horse hooves.

He turned around suddenly and saw a silver-white figure leaping over the trench and charging into the enemy's formation.

It's Saint Jeanne!
The spear drew a cold light in the air, and blue-white lightning exploded from the tip of the spear.

As if the god of thunder from the ancient Norn mythology were alive, the black-haired girl tore through the formation of the Knights of the Imperial Order with unrivaled thunder.

An Imperial Order Knight was hit by an electric current, and his whole body instantly convulsed, with a burning smell coming from his armor.

At the same time, the cuirass cavalrymen behind Jeanne quickly drew their guns. The sound of gunfire exploded on the battlefield, and in a volley, three knights of the Imperial Order fell off their horses.

"Praise the Holy Wind!!"

The cavalrymen added with a roar and continued to charge the enemy.

Taking a deep breath, Kaler turned around and threw himself into the battle again.

His saber was already stained with blood. Under the influence of the fluctuating divine light balls and potions, the Leia soldiers, with blood all over their ears, were also fighting desperately.

The snow was trampled into mud and mixed with blood to form a dark red sludge.

This was true not just for the small position of Kaler, but for all the positions along the entire front.

My ears were filled with shouting, screaming and the sounds of weapons clashing, and everyone was fighting with all their might.

When the rotating horn sounded, Kaler realized that he had almost become a bloody man.

His armor was stained with the blood of his enemies, his own blood, and even his eyelashes were clotted with blood.

He did not retreat immediately, but stood there, breathing deeply.

If Grothien saw his brother-in-law again at this moment, he probably wouldn't be able to recognize him for a while.

The young man who seemed a little immature and simple at the beginning now had a look as ferocious as a tiger.

…………

As dusk fell, the bloody smell of the Malenbo battlefield had not yet dissipated.

The snow had been trampled into a muddy crimson, and bodies lay strewn about the trenches and fences.

The attack of the Leia army lasted from early morning to sunset, and it was not until dinner time that a brief lull occurred.

Baron Macherov, wearing a thick cloak, walked quickly through the crowd warming themselves by the fire and came to Count Dreta's tent.

He took off his leather gloves, revealing his red, frozen hands, then lifted the heavy curtain and walked in.

"Lord Dreta," he asked in an impatient whisper as soon as he entered the room, "Do you want to fight at night?"

Count Dreta stood in front of the map but said nothing.

His fingers slowly moved along the camp's defense line on the map, and even a few bloodstains could be seen on his cuffs.

"How are the other camps doing?"

"The defense was fierce, but they didn't seem to use their artillery much."

"That's natural." Although Count Dreta didn't understand how the mountain copper spring was made, he knew that this thing was water-powered.

During the dry season in winter, many streams and rivers are only ankle-deep, making it impossible to wind the mainspring.

The only time to wind the moon is probably to go to the river at night.

"Remember to arrange for people to patrol the river at night to prevent them from taking the opportunity to wind up the mainspring. As for the night battle..."

Dreta hesitated.

If a night battle were launched now, the people of Qianhe Valley might not be caught off guard.

Their fortifications were still intact, but their own soldiers had been fighting for a whole day, and their physical strength and morale were gradually declining.

Fighting in the unfamiliar darkness will only amplify the fear and confusion.

Moreover, the defenders of Qianhe Valley Army should have been familiar with the rhythm of the attack, so there would be no point in rashly fighting at night.

Besides, Lord Raffl’s plan has already been put into motion.

The attacks from five directions will definitely hold them back and prevent them from receiving reinforcements.

"It's impossible for them to have reinforcements." Dreta muttered, with a glimmer of confidence in his eyes.

The people of Qianhe Valley are now isolated and helpless. Their defense line seems solid, but under constant consumption, there will always be flaws.

The Leia army has sufficient troops and resources, and all they need to do is wait, wait for their morale to collapse, and wait for their fortifications to be damaged.

Towards the end of the day, Dretta could clearly feel that the fighting power of the Thousand Valley Army was weakening.

Morale is the key to determining the outcome of a war.

"Fighting at night will affect morale." Dreta finally spoke in a calm and determined voice, "We don't have to rush. Let the soldiers have a good rest, and go to nearby to gather some cattle and sheep as a reward, and prepare for another battle tomorrow."

The baron frowned, but finally nodded.

Count Dreta raised his head and looked at the night outside the tent.

The fire flickered in the cold wind, illuminating the silent camp in the distance.

He knew that this camp would fall sooner or later.

But there is no need to rush.

(End of this chapter)