Chapter 281: The Barbarians Arrive
Brown rubbed his throbbing head, looking at the regrouped Bay Territory soldiers, feeling waves of helplessness.
Did we really lose just like that?
It was truly humiliating.
Brown, who had been a bit dissatisfied earlier, felt his face heat up. Holding his sore chest, he got back on his feet.
Angela, riding over on horseback, wasn't surprised by their defeat and didn't say much:
"Team 5 lost. Injured soldiers, step forward."
"The rest of you, take a 30-minute break. Injured soldiers, each drink a bottle of Vitality Potion."
Before they could react, Team 3, who had just defeated them, was already handing out Vitality Potions.
Brown glanced at the calm-looking Leon, opened his mouth but said nothing.
He downed the Vitality Potion in one gulp, and only after Leon walked away did he sigh helplessly.
As Brown organized his soldiers to form up again, Lin Qi, with two white marks on his chest, walked over.
"Lost?"
"You too, so soon?"
They each said a sentence, then exchanged wry smiles.
Brown rubbed his forehead in frustration, recalling the battle, and grumbled in discontent:
"Losing like that felt pretty lousy!"
"Tell me about it. What happened on your end?"
Lin Qi, who had lost his temper completely, looked slightly more relaxed, but his hand clenched tightly around his sword hilt was pale.
"What else could happen? A few fully armored barbarian soldiers led the charge, broke through the shield bearers' defense, and immediately tore a gap."
"Concentrated crossbow bolts targeted the gap, breaking the formation."
"Dozens of soldiers with small round shields rushed into the breach, tearing through the ranks…"
Brown spread his hands, his tone filled with helplessness.
Whether in individual soldier strength or coordinated combat, the gap was too vast.
"It was the same on my side. We couldn't even withstand a single charge…"
The two comrades in misfortune, gritting their teeth, watched Teams 1 and 2 start their training.
They still felt a bit unwilling…
Two days later.
The quiet surface of the Silvermoon River rippled gently.
Figures sprinted, chasing after a few fleeing cavalrymen.
Although the cavalrymen were few, they remained calm.
They kept a safe distance, staying out of range of most ranged attacks.
When the occasional arrow flew their way, they skillfully maneuvered their mounts to dodge.
Sometimes they would even turn around and counterattack with longer-range crossbows.
Their crossbows were fast and accurate, frequently hitting unlucky barbarian pursuers.
"Haha…"
Despite the language barrier, the arrogant laughter was unmistakable to the barbarian wanderers.
They gritted their teeth and spurred their mounts on, vowing to catch these infuriating enemies.
To strip them of their leather armor.
To snatch their weapons.
To prove their strength with their blood and wash away the humiliation.
However, these cavalrymen were slippery, constantly keeping their distance.
When faced with flanking ambushes from both sides,
They would dive into thorny paths or scatter caltrops that pierced horses' hooves, slipping through pre-laid traps to escape encirclement.
Just as the barbarians were about to give up, the Silvermoon River stretching before them filled them with joy.
"Chase them! They can't escape now."
"Surround them!!"
"Catch them! I want to skin them alive!"
"Quick, hurry!!"
Enraged and blinded by fury,
The barbarians charged out of the sparse woods, closing in on the trapped cavalry.
Suddenly, the air was filled with the sound of projectiles whistling through.
Bolts from crossbows rained down, instantly covering them.
Dozens of barbarian wanderers were thrown from their horses.
The chased cavalrymen regrouped with twice their number and charged in!
The clash of swords was swift and fierce.
Mixed with the screams of the barbarians.
And then it was over.
Elio flicked the blood off his sword, glanced at the corpses around him, and the red glow in his eyes slowly faded as he ordered:
"Notify Squads 12 and 1 to spread out to the flanks, avoid direct contact with the barbarians, and just monitor their movements."
"The rest, take the prisoners and retreat. The main barbarian force is coming."
Philly tightened the ropes, securing a captive onto a captured warhorse, her eyes gleaming with excitement:
"These horses are great. Even losing so much weight, they still kept up with us."
Stroking a tall blue horse, Elio's eyes also showed a hint of delight:
"This is the famous Blue Charger of the barbarians. Each one is worth 200 gold coins!"
"Huh? That valuable? We just killed over a dozen of them—we've lost big!"
"Tsk, what's the point of thinking about that? First, you have to win and survive before you can enjoy the spoils."
"Enough talking. After taking that loss, they'll be circling back."
"…"
Port Camp.
Matthew sent the returning scouting team to rest and, looking across the river at the sparse palm forest, told Angela:
"Send Beelzebub's team; it's time to give them a real lesson!"
Angela left, and soon the sound of marching troops leaving the camp could be heard.
Yaya, watching the soldiers forming up at the bridgehead 300 meters away, curiously asked:
"500 men—won't that be too few?"
Watching the newly completed defensive bunkers and the four towering watchtowers, Matthew responded with a question:
"If you saw fewer enemies, would you think about attacking?"
Adorable Yaya tilted her head, noticing the emerging figures of the barbarians in the distance, rushing towards the wooden bridge.
As soon as they crossed the bridge, they attacked the fortress.
Only to slam into an impenetrable wall.
Over a hundred attacking barbarians lasted only a few breaths before Beelzebub, bathed in red light, cut them down.
Finally understanding, Yaya blinked and shared her realization:
"Ah! It's like a big spiky meal—the more you try to bite, the deeper the spikes pierce!"
Impressed by Yaya's analogy, Matthew patted her head gently:
"Exactly. These barbarians are full of fighting spirit; they'll charge headfirst into us. We'll hold for a few days and wear down their spirit."
While Matthew spoke casually, the battle at the front fortress grew fiercer.
Gradually, dozens and hundreds of barbarian squads charged at the fortress.
Only to be cut down by Beelzebub's bloodstained axe, boosting the morale of the 1st squad.
After the seventh foolish barbarian team was defeated,
Another barbarian force standing in the middle of the bridge witnessed the scene and wisely chose to hold back.
The barbarian "suicide" charges finally stopped.
Wiping the blood off his axe, Beelzebub stared at the tens of thousands of barbarians across the river with a bloodthirsty grin and boldly taunted:
"Come on, let's have a real fight!"