The torches represent Hamlet's pushing the battle lines toward the coast; the seawater has beco the dividing line between them and humans, but the bodies drifting on the shore indicate the difficulty of this victory.
"Look quick! He's here!"
"He's not dead!"
"Where's the doctor? Save him fast."
They seed to have discovered sothing, disregarding the possible lurking danger of Fishn by the sea, they dragged back the person pushed up by the waves.
Everyone present recognized him because he was Baldwin, who had charged into the storm.
However, his current condition was very poor, his whole body covered in wounds torn open by the storm. If it weren't for the armor protecting vital areas and saving his life, he might not have survived until now.
Similarly, the Fishn hurriedly fled in such a panic that they didn't even notice Baldwin; otherwise, any random fish could have delivered the finishing blow to kill him.
Grendel also stepped forward, seeing Baldwin, even unconscious, still gripping his weapon tightly made her feel grateful for Lance's foresight.
The storm stirred up by those Shamans was nearly unstoppable even from the aftermath alone. Had Baldwin not risked his life to interrupt it, the countless seawater brought by the storm would have crashed into, not just the port, but destroyed the entire Hamlet.
Taking out a bottle of dicine to pour down his throat, Baldwin's vital signs stabilized slightly, and at this mont, a ray of light shone upon him, and his flesh wounds began to heal visibly.
"Holy Light bless!" The ndicant Monk walked up, trembling.
Grendel glanced at the two mbers of the Church but said nothing.
She turned her head to scan the surroundings, looking at the chaotic battlefield, and fell into deep contemplation for a mont.
How should I explain this situation to Lance...
......
Lance stood on the high wall, casting his gaze toward the distant wilds. Unlike the dayti's frenzy, the night in the wilderness strangely fell into calmness, at least around the outpost.
Yet his heart was already stirred; Wang Cai stationed at target one sent word that the Heretics were gathering, they were not attempting to counterattack from behind.
Or perhaps, wait until the day to attack logistics, cutting off the frontline's supply, dragging the frontline war into a quagmire.
Instead, they chose the outpost; continuously gathering Heretics from underground, wanting to take advantage of the full army strike and seize this empty city, exchanging territories with Hamlet.
You took my passage, so I take your outpost. That seems reasonable, doesn't it?
"Why are you here?" Margaret's voice sounded from the side, then she approached.
She really couldn't sleep, everything now was weighing her with pressure, not being on the battlefield made her feel more uneasy.
So she figured out a way to make herself seem sowhat involved, for this, she held a gun observing from the sentinel tower of the outpost.
She noticed Lance's presence and ca down, after all, he hadn't co up before the action started.
Now after nightfall, instead of sleeping, he ca here to view the place, probably because Laura's Hawk brought back news about target two before dark.
"Are you worried if the second team can reach target three?"
Lance didn't mind Margaret's arrival too much, casually explaining.
"I'm waiting for them to gather, so I don't waste ti."
Margaret couldn't understand this strange talk, but she learned not to question randomly, but to ponder.
However, she ca because of another matter.
"I want to follow those wounded to the frontline tomorrow."
"If you just want to participate in the war, it's not necessary." Lance didn't even bother to look at her, directly dismissing.
"I'm not a child; I don't need protection." Margaret desperately tried to defend herself, "I've proved myself, what those new soldiers can do, I can do too!"
Staying here, doing nothing, was extrely uncomfortable for her; she didn't see this as protection, but rather tornt.
But Lance strangely shook his head.
"No, you misunderstood, my point is you don't need to go to such trouble to fight; there are battles right here."
"Where?" Margaret instinctively raised her eyes around, still quiet.
"Can't you see that darkness is deeper than the night? Close to a hundred are gathered below." Lance calmly explained, raising his hand to point into the darkness, even elucidating, "This sorcery isn't sothing ordinary Heretics can cast; most likely, a capable spellcaster is there, a big catch."
Margaret had excellent eyesight, and right as Lance spoke, she indeed felt that area was especially dark.
But his following explanation directly shocked her.
What!
Outside the high walls, over a hundred Heretics have gathered?
"Why are we just standing here? Quickly..."
Margaret's first reaction was to gather people to defend the city. She knew clearly how empty the outpost was now, apart from logistics, only the wounded remained; this fortified high wall didn't give her a sense of security.
But before she finished, Lance interrupted.
"I know you're anxious, but don't be in a hurry, the guests aren't all here yet, it's impolite to rush to dinner, we must have patience."
Watching Lance's response, Margaret finally understood what he ant initially.
Turns out he'd been watching those Heretics gather the whole ti, it's no wonder he's barely acknowledging her.
"Do you have any plans? Cavalry? Or reserve forces?"
Knowing it's Heretics below, Margaret no longer dared speak loudly; she urgently needed assurance of Lance's backup plan.
"No reinforcents, just us." Lance casually jested, "If I had backup, I'd have used it long ago, not let them be in such danger, how could I hold off till now."
This statent left Margaret in silent turmoil, the pressure of guarding the outpost suddenly weighed on her, she found it hard to breathe, wearing a stoic face.
"Hahaha~ You're the one who wanted to go to the battlefield, now look at your reaction?" Lance laughed and teased her seeing her like that: "Really thought I'd give you special treatnt and not let you on the battlefield? No way!"
People all have pride, Margaret's no exception, especially after saying such things earlier, being teased like that, she couldn't help but stand firm.
Margaret faced Lance's mischievous grin, felt like shooting him; where does such a person exist?
"Don't panic, the outpost is fortified, not easily breached, when the ti cos just fire from the wall, we're smart, who'd face Heretics head-on?"
Lance reassured her, he was just teasing earlier, these Heretics weren't enough for him to chop.
If not for her interruption, tomorrow morning people wouldn't notice the Heretics tried invading.
But at this mont, sensing suddenly, his gaze slightly shifted, the slightly upturned corners of his mouth flattened.
"Go down and notify everyone to prepare for action, rember don't rush, don't panic..."
Lance casually instructed Margaret to leave, looked up at the Dark Moon, then took out the ssenger.
Right now, Grendel calling him couldn't be good news.
Indeed, hearing Grendel's situation report he wasn't surprised, the wilderness's fuss is huge; expecting the ancestor to just take hits without fighting back?
Thus, Lance wasn't too agitated, instead calmly comforting.
"You did well, how are the casualties?"
Silence from the ssenger, amidst hearing breaths, before continuing.
"Still haven't fully tallied, but the casualties are quite severe, estimating over a hundred dead."
Upon hearing this, Lance couldn't stay calm, since arriving at Hamlet, it's the first instance of over a hundred deaths, not counting the wounded...
User Comments
0 comments from readers