Under the starlit sky, Robson had just finished setting up camp.
Still uneasy, he sent out several sentries.
A short while later, a deafening clamor of gongs and drums erupted. Bugles and war drums sounded one after another throughout the camp, their calls spreading across the entire West City Gate.
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"
"Report! Enemy attack!"
Cavalryn, one after another, descended from the city walls and weaved rapidly through the camp, shouting continuously.
Robson, who had been sleeping lightly, was instantly jolted awake. He quickly rolled out of bed, his armor still on.
He grabbed the Knight’s Sword from his side, picked up his shield, and slung the Elf Bow over his back.
Just as he stepped out, Robson happened to run into a reporting Cavalryman.
Seeing that a lord had already risen, the Cavalryman dismounted in one swift motion and rushed over to Robson in just a few steps.
"Reporting, sir! The en-enemy is attacking!"
"How many? Who’s in command on the walls?" Robson asked with a frown.
"I don’t know! It’s a massive tide of them, nothing but people! There’s no end in sight!" the Cavalryman said.
Robson’s frown deepened. He turned back and hurriedly roused his own Soldiers.
’Nothing but people?’
Although rushing to the city walls now would surely an being among those who suffered the heaviest losses, this was no ti for hesitation.
After quickly assembling his troops, Robson led them out at top speed.
At this mont, West City seed to be slowly waking up, filled with an unbroken cacophony of shouts and reprimands.
Robson spurred his horse onward, setting off at a gallop.
"What’s going on? Why are you retreating?"
Halfway there, Robson spotted Knights wearing the crest of the Baron Oli Clan in a panicked "retreat." He began to realize sothing was terribly wrong.
"The Baron... the Baron is dead! There are too many Beastn! We can’t kill them all! It’s impossible!"
The Knight seed to be in a daze.
Robson frowned, let the Knight pass, and urged his troops to hurry to the battlefield with all haste.
The current situation left no room for hesitation. There was no reason West City should fall in a single day.
Fortunately, although Robson had chosen a position further back, his troops were high-quality, and they quickly reached the city walls.
The top of the wall was a scene of chaos, with battle cries ringing out and fires blazing everywhere. Not a single one of the mounted Magic Crystal Cannons had fired, and the prepared vats of molten gold were still in their pots.
Robson’s expression darkened. In a glance, he spotted Baron Oli still fighting on the wall.
’He’s not dead yet?’
With the thought of ’I might as well save him if I can,’ Robson commanded his Tier Four Frank Skilled Infantry to form a periter around him and charge forward. The remaining Tier Three Frankish Infantry were left to guard the nearly 200 Frank Skilled Shooters.
As for the Peasant Soldiers, Robson upgraded those he could on the spot and ordered them to fight nearby.
Although their combat effectiveness was low, that was only in comparison.
Compared to Robson’s Tier Four Soldiers, they were certainly lacking, but against the troops of other Officers, they could handle two-on-one without any trouble.
"For the kingdom! Charge!"
Robson roared, activated his battle aura, and charged onto the city wall.
The Tier Four Soldiers surrounded him, cutting a path through the enemy until they reached the besieged Baron Oli.
"Robson? You’re here! This is wonderful!" Upon seeing his savior, Baron Oli was so excited he nearly fainted.
Robson caught him. ’This is no ti for Baron Oli to pass out,’ he thought. ’After all, the enemy broke through into West City. Soone has to take the bla for this.’
"My Lord Baron, stay with . We need to retake the wall imdiately, or the consequences will be dire," Robson said.
Robson turned his head to look down from the wall, and his face imdiately darkened.
’What a load of bullshit about a sea of people. It’s just a few thousand goblins...’
He figured they were just cannon fodder sent to test the waters. The enemy probably hadn’t expected a bunch of rabble to actually breach the walls, especially since they had no reinforcents behind them.
In this situation, Robson didn’t need to say much. He directly ordered his subordinates to break into their previously assigned groups and act as they saw fit.
A group of goblins could be wiped out by even a moderately strong Peasant. They couldn’t possibly cause any real trouble.
The real trouble was the group of Gray Dwarves. Although they were about the sa height as the goblins, their combat prowess was on a completely different level.
It was a group of Gray Dwarves that had surrounded Baron Oli just now.
The Gray Dwarves were a highly chauvinistic race. If the Iron Wall Kingdom hadn’t adopted a policy of total extermination against their kind, they would never have joined the Beastman Empire.
The strongest Gray Dwarf present was only at the Silver Fourth Tier. Robson dispatched him with a single slash of his sword.
After Robson’s army joined the fray, the battlefield situation quickly stabilized, and the other nobles of West City began to arrive one by one.
Seeing that the situation was no longer critical, Robson took out his bow and began so live-target practice.
’Goblins may be trash, but they give experience points!’
Especially for his Peasant Soldiers, the goblins were the perfect tools for leveling up.
Robson even had his Cavalry dismount and join the fight to mop up experience.
"Ding! Frankish Peasant killed a goblin slave. Experience 50."
"Ding! You killed a goblin chief with your bow. Deriman Archery Skill Experience 50."
"Ding! Hero Bo Yang killed a goblin chief. Caucasus Swordsmanship Experience 50."
The system’s notification chis rang wildly in Robson’s ears, the prompts almost exclusively announcing successful kills.
The goblin race was so weak that even well-fed Peasants could beat them.
Watching his experience points skyrocket, Robson was secretly delighted, wishing the enemy would send a few more waves of such cannon fodder.
Unfortunately, he could only dream. This wave was likely just an advance party sent to scout things out. The real fight would co later.
The goblins didn’t last long. By the ti the other nobles officially entered the battlefield, Robson’s forces had already routed them.
Seeing this, the assembled lords ascended the wall and showered Robson with praise that was half-sincere, half-false.
"Sir Robson’s army is truly a force of tigers and wolves! We will have to rely on you greatly from now on, Sir."
Robson had rely repelled a group of goblins—goblins who had managed to breach the city walls, no less—yet in the mouths of these nobles, he had suddenly beco an undisputed elite.
The most awkward part was that, after sizing them all up, Robson realized their words might not just be flattery. It seed to be the actual truth.
"You’re too kind. Before I arrived, Sir Oli’s troops had already nearly wiped out the goblins."
Robson didn’t dare accept the praise from these sly old foxes. With great power cos great responsibility, as they say, and he had no desire to be assigned missions like night raids on enemy camps...
Once again, Robson deftly used Baron Oli as a shield.
"Ah? ?" Baron Oli was confused.
The mont he had gotten on the wall, he’d been surrounded by a group of Gray Dwarves. He was preparing to die for his country when Robson rescued him.
He knew nothing about what had happened at the beginning of the battle on the wall.
"But of course. My Lord Baron, you needn’t be so modest. It was your Warriors charging at the forefront that secured this victory," Robson said with complete conviction.
In any case, defeating a group of goblins wasn’t so great achievent. For Robson, the real benefit was the haul of experience points.
Although each goblin gave little experience, their sheer numbers made up for it.
The military rits from these goblins were of little value to Robson. In fact, accepting the credit would only lead to him being praised into a position of dangerous responsibility, so it was better to refuse it.
This would also boost Baron Oli’s confidence and help him properly fill his role as the nominal leader.
If West City were to fall later, perhaps this credit could even save Baron Oli’s life.
With that thought, what little guilt Robson had felt vanished without a trace.
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