Augustus Under the Horseshoe

"How far are we from the port?"

A tall and burly Visigoth with two layers of Roman chain armor, randomly tore a cyan dragon flag fallen in the blood of the corpse mountain, and wiped his long sword with that fine cloth. The blood stains on his face were then carelessly wiped on his face, wiping off the blood scabs and pieces of meat that obstructed his vision.

"General, no, it's less than two hundred feet. After shredding a defense of the tribe, we can reach the dock area of ​​Selman and stop the enemy's landing troops.

Damn, we attacked this street six times and lost it five times! The ghost knows how many layers of corpses are piled up! "

Another soldier, who also wore two pieces of chain mail, sat on the pile of corpses and gasped, seizing the time to recover his precious physical strength. Behind them, there were only a hundred elite members of the Gothic troupe, but at the same time they were wearing two Centurion flags embroidered with white ravens. It seemed that more than half of the casualties had been killed.

"This battle is endless, complicated, and the narrow streets completely offset our numerical advantage. Every time the army advances a street or even a house, it will pay the price of blood. Three days ago, Theodori Lord Ke took us to catch the enemy's weakness and the pig leaped forward, and almost broke into the port area.

However, the soldiers had just annihilated the centaur monster that had fought to the end, and everyone's physical strength had reached their limit, and all their arrows and javelins had been exhausted, and they had to rest on the spot for two hours. But within two hours, the other side transported another two thousand new troops from the east coast! Plug the loophole alive! "

"Stop talking nonsense, hurry up and rest."

The person who looked like a general lay directly in the sea of ​​blood that had been piled up at the window. He took out a piece of blood-stained bread from the clothes that had been soaked in blood, and chewed it without a trace of dislike.

About thirty minutes later, this small unit of more than one hundred people climbed up from the bloodstain and continued to move forward. They turned a bend, and the blue Danube came into view and blocked between them. There is only one team left with the same bloodstained, exhausted blood, anger and fearlessness-among the team of a hundred men and horses, there are three blue dragon flags that symbolize a hundred families.

"In the name of the High King! Charge! Use the blood of these monsters to nourish our land!!!"

The head of the Gothic general uttered a sky-shaking roar, inspiring the barbarian soldiers under his command. He wielded a long sword and shield and rushed towards the huge monster on foot. The blood-stained white cloak spread out to the sides under the airflow, hunting in the storm, and in the eyes of others, it seemed like a double-wing dyed head. Blood, the ferocious white crow leaping on its prey.

This unrelenting breath of courage infected all the Gothic soldiers. They roared like wild beasts, brandished long swords and shields, charged on foot, and ran into the arrow formations of the horses and soldiers.

Two large arrows were blocked by the shield, and the third arrow shot through the barbarian's knee accurately. The iron arrow clusters pierced through the flesh and blood, cutting the bone marrow, and the hunting crow staggered and fell directly to the ground.

And the soldiers of the battle group behind him were also shot by the intensive rain of arrows. The narrow lanes were inevitable and inevitable, and the arrows of the horses were shot fast and hard, waiting for them to rush to. In front of the position, one-third of the soldiers had fallen.

When the first white crow guard rushed to the centaur, the centaur in the front row threw the longbow and drew out the halberd and battle axe to meet the enemy. The sky-shaking roar accompanied by the clang of metal resounded through the sky!

These Goths are indeed brave and good at fighting, and they can rely on their excellent swordsmanship to fight the monsters even when their strength is far less than that of the horses.

However, this also meant that they couldn't move a bit forward at all. The narrow lanes could only allow five horses to stand side by side, and the White Crow Guards in the back row could only wield their long swords and stare at the shield.

The people in the back row aimed their longbows and arrows at the blue sky, throwing rounds of death arrows that obscure the sky and the sun, and they kept falling on top of the opponent's head. Casualties occurred every moment, every moment. Every second, arrows from the Gothic barbarians fell to the ground!

The general Goth with an arrow in his knee struggled to get up from the ground. Regardless of the knee injury, he slammed his legs and jumped from the ground, passing the heads of three or four friendly forces, holding swords in both hands, fiercely. Cut to the enemy's head, the red blood, like a flood from a bursting embankment, gushed from the wound on his knee.

However, what awaited him was not the enemy’s blood, but a round of intensive shooting. A full forty-two large clusters of arrows hit his chest, and the terrifying impact directly shot the barbarians leaping in mid-air. Went out and knocked down a piece of soldiers.

In the end, the morale of the remaining twenty Gothic barbarians collapsed, and they wailed and fled. The horses did not shoot arrows at their backs because their own ammunition was about to run out.

After several battles in a row, more than half of the crew lost more than half of the men and horses, and they sat on the sea of ​​blood on the corpse mountain in fatigue. They drew too many bows in a short time, their arms were sore and hard to bear, and they couldn’t feel the weight of the composite longbow. He pressed his hands like a mountain.

However, at this moment, another wave of Visigoths roared and killed them. Two hundred Gothic barbarians and two hundred Roman apostasy roared, and the black robe and silver armored rebels directly boarded the house. roof.

The trembling sound of the sky brought a dense rain of arrows composed of crossbow bolts and javelins, which shot the unprepared men into a sieve. The thin wooden shield could not stop the powerfully sinking terrorist crossbow bolts. Under the cover of crossbow arrows, under the leadership of several White Crow Guards, people launched a terror charge like a mountain whistling a tsunami, and completely submerged these fighters who fought to the last minute.

"General! We are victorious! The port is right in front of us!"

The Gothic soldier who had been fighting for a long time happily pointed to the dock in front of him, and immediately listened to the voices around him: the sound of soldiers and sofas in all directions, it seems that his own unit took the lead in breaking the tribal defense.

However, their excited gazes turned into despair after a few seconds: the Roman ship arrived again, and a total of five hundred blue-skinned, fat ogre wizards, roared and boarded Searle. Man's land. They are too obese, an ordinary soldier in full gear, and 100 kilograms of weapons is almost the limit. But the weight of the ogres is two to three times theirs, so the number of transports has also decreased.

And that average weight of one ton of horses and horses can only transport a hundred at a time. From the beginning of the war, only the flying wind howl, the dead poets, and the Withered Bone clan have arrived. The horses of other clans, only their most powerful chief, And a few guards.

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