In the darkness, the gates of the camp swung open.
Even a desert bandit corps as quick as the wind needed a foothold in this desolate place to avoid the scorching sun by day and the eerie chill by night.
Thus, a secluded camp with a hidden water source ca into being.
It was nestled among several hills.
From the outside, nothing seed out of the ordinary.
But if one climbed to the top of the hills, they would find an unexpected sight.
A large wooden camp had erged from the ground.
At this mont, the bandits left behind were staring in shock at their companions who had set out with high spirits, boasting that they would return with a cartload of gold and silver.
Now, they stumbled through the gates, faces full of terror, like dogs with their tails between their legs.
"What on earth happened, my brothers?"
"Where are the others? Why are only you back?"
"We were defeated. Those terrifying Frankish brutes treacherously used a dreadful magic with blood as dium. They are incarnations of the Devil!"
Soone, barely recovered from their fright, stamred, "We should never have provoked those devils. There were only seven of them, but they slaughtered our warriors like cutting vegetables."
"By the Holy Fire above, please burn away the evil curse upon us."
As soone rushed into the camp gate, they fell to their knees, devoutly praying to the Holy Fire Altar in the camp’s center.
Abud watched the scene with a dark expression, his anger and worry nearly consuming him.
Abud sternly said, "Everyone, prepare for defense. Barto, gather the offerings needed for the ’Great Sacrifice’; I am going to hold the ’Holy Fire’ sacrifice."
"Yes, my lord."
Barto, with a ghastly wound on his cheek, looked on grimly as he took the order.
This injury was inflicted by a despicable Frankish cavalryman wearing a helt resembling bull horns.
Abud said in a deep voice, "Ensure strict vigilance tonight. Only half are allowed to sleep, the rest must be on standby at all tis."
Soone questioned, "Chief, are we being overly cautious? They couldn’t possibly find our camp, and even if they did, they couldn’t do anything in the dead of night."
"Exactly, chief, we’ve all sworn by the Holy Fire. Anyone who dares reveal the camp’s location would be instantly reduced to ashes."
"Silence, fools!"
"Do you know what I’ve seen?"
A rare expression of fear appeared on Abud’s face.
They had never seen such an emotion on their leader’s face, and quickly fell silent.
Normally, their leader impressed them as wise, smart, brave, and fearless.
Abud’s hoarse voice rang out, "I saw a woman under the command of that Frankish Lord devour a soul with her Black Shield!"
"Oaths only hold for the living; the dead are beyond the jurisdiction of the Holy Fire."
Looking at his silent subordinates, he gave a grim smile, "Prepare yourselves. If those Franks really find us, they only need to surround us, and we’ll be trapped here. No one would willingly venture deep into Frankish territory to rescue a bunch of bandits!"
...
In the latter half of the night.
In the darkness, armored soldiers waited anxiously or excitedly for their Lord’s command to attack.
So silently held their Cross in devout prayer.
The siege ladders and makeshift battering rams constructed by the accompanying carpenters were already in place.
Soone whispered, "My chain armor is too worn. This ti, Lord promised we could keep the spoils; I must get a new set of armor."
"Shut up."
Model sternly knocked on his helt, "No one speaks until Lord gives the order!"
The soldiers fell silent, quietly resting on the grass. The night march had drained more than half of their physical strength and energy.
Losa hadn’t launched an imdiate attack for this very reason.
Losa was calculating the timing.
The Winged Cavalry had shed their feathered decorations behind their armor, holding broadswords and one-handed hamrs, gathering around him.
This ti, he brought sixty armored soldiers, nearly all their beasts of burden, and had even borrowed pack horses and cals from several villages, an almost complete mobilization.
"It’s about ti, order everyone to prepare for battle."
Losa spoke.
In the darkness, he tightly gripped a hand half sword, choosing not to carry a cumberso shield.
Beside him stood only Prajna.
Furinjira’s magic power was fully exhausted and was recuperating at the rear.
This was to cast a spell called ’Group Night Vision’, with a duration of two hours.
Otherwise, Losa’s troops could never have silently approached the camp without torches.
The bustling noise below soon alerted the guards of the camp. By the firelight, they saw grim faces encased in iron armor, lunging at them with sinister grins.
"It’s the Franks!"
"By the Holy Fire, these devils have truly arrived!"
Losa took the lead and charged at the forefront.
He was not far from reaching level 4; killing a dozen more should ensure his successful upgrade.
Although, as a lord, personal attributes were not his primary focus, history had countless instances of assassinated kings and leaders.
Moreover, as a noble of the Crusaders, leading troops into battle was commonplace; there would always be monts when Prajna couldn’t guard him.
He slashed down a bandit with one stroke, only to feel that the bandits rushing out of the barracks in the dark were endless, reacting extrely quickly.
As if they had long anticipated their arrival.
Luckily, in such chaotic battles, bows and arrows were hard to be effective.
Darkness served as the best cover for the armored soldiers blessed by the Heavenly Father, as they wantonly hacked at the indistinguishable enemies, so even uttering a few words in Arabic to confuse them.
The battering ram bood open the wooden gate, and the armored soldiers yelled as they flooded in.
Then, suddenly, a cluster of flas shot up in the darkness, rising dozens of ters high.
The entire camp was illuminated as bright as day.
Abud, this bandit leader, knelt devoutly before the flas, continuously offering silver, gold, silk, and various spices into them.
The flas climbed higher and higher.
Then, they transford into a giant fire serpent.
In Abud’s sharp eyes, ice-cold vertical pupils precisely locked onto Losa on the wall, the two briefly exchanged glances, and in the next mont, that fire serpent flew towards him at high speed.
Before it even got close, the scorching heat made Losa feel a burning pain.
For a mont, he didn’t know which way to run.
Because that fire serpent clearly had tracking capabilities.
The frightened armored soldiers looked on at the spectacle, murmuring, "By the Heavenly Father, this is the heretics’ evil witchcraft!"
"This is the Holy Fire worshiped by the heretics!"
A silent figure stood in front of Losa, black hair fluttering in the wind.
Losa’s terrified heart quickly cald down.
Though she appeared much slimr than him, Prajna, at this mont, seed as magnificent as the Theodosius Wall in Losa’s heart.
The black shield in her hand spun rapidly.
The ghost face relief unwillingly spewed out large swathes of black mist, swirling in front of the shield, expanding this black shield that was less than two ters long.
Bang—
The fire serpent crashed into it.
The ghost face relief let out a sharp scream.
The black mist shattered in large patches.
Sparks flew onto the wooden walls of the camp, instantly igniting a raging fire.
Losa clearly saw a few sparks land on Prajna’s arm, instantly burning through her sleeve, leaving large wrinkles on her smooth skin.
"Damn it!"
...
"Damn it!"
Two angry curses rang out almost simultaneously.
Abud could not have anticipated that his one devastating strike, invoked through the great ritual of the Holy Fire, would be blocked by this evil witch using witchcraft.
A sense of despair instinctively surged within him.
"By the Holy Fire, is your might ultimately not as grand as those heretics who occupy the Holy Land?"
Bam—
The sharp half-sword slashed down high.
Abud instinctively leaped forward, the blade rely grazed over his back, then got deflected off the armor plates onto the side.
"Abud, I gave you a chance, but you forsook it."
Anger mingled with fear on Abud’s face: "The people of the Fire Worship will not submit to you butchers from Frank!"
Losa wasn’t in the mood for banter, history shows that victors and losers are rely subjects of fate.
Bang bang bang—
His booming heartbeat echoed like a drumbeat.
Under Losa’s barrel helt, breathing beca extrely heavy, the surge in attributes brought on by Bloodfall made him slash out a sword like lightning the next mont.
Abud’s eyes widened.
His eagle eyes allowed him to see the other’s movents clearly, but his body simply couldn’t react, and within a mont, his head was hacked off by the sharp half-sword.
Losa didn’t even give the head a chance to hit the ground, he grabbed it at once, raised it high, and roared powerfully: "Abud is dead, those who cease resistance will not be killed!"
User Comments
0 comments from readers