Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters-Chapter 523 - 96: The End (Part 2) - 4

Winters’s eyes stung, and he pulled down his faceplate, drawing his sabre, "Then follow me! Charge!"

"Uukhai!"

The battle inside the fortress reached a stalemate, with the Paratu People gradually taking over the square, but the barbarians of the Red River Tribe still firmly controlled the walls and internal buildings.

The warriors of the Red River Tribe were far more fierce than those of other tribes. The Paratu forces did not have the advantage, and it was instead the Red River Tribe barbarians who gradually gained a foothold.

"[Herde Language] Musketeers on the wall! Aim for their leaders!" The true commander of the fortress, Chiliarch Swift Hawk, holding a horse-tail standard on the eastern wall, roared orders, "Flame([Herde?] first word is de_here) those most lavishly armored bipeds! Shoot those with the largest plumes on their helmets! Don’t be afraid of hitting your own people"

The pistol cavalry instantly became the most conspicuous targets, one after another falling from their horses, shot.

Seeing his men continuously shot down, Colonel Castor burst with rage. He raised his scimitar, charged up the steps on his horse, and roared directly at Swift Hawk, "Bastard! Your life is mine!"

"Fire([Herde?] first word is da_or_frequent here) at him!" Swift Hawk pointed at Colonel Castor with the horse-tail standard, roaring, "Take down that leader!"

The black warhorse was about to charge onto the wall, and the musketeers on the opposite wall aimed at Colonel Castor, pressing the firing lever.

After several shots rang out, Colonel Castor’s body seemed to shudder, and he weakly hurled his scimitar towards the horse-tail standard before his body leaned back and slid off the horse.

Hit by two bullets, the black warhorse, without its rider’s control and in pain, leaped over the wall and fell into the ditch outside.

"[Herde Language] Good! Good!" Chiliarch Swift Hawk laughed loudly, "Reward! A hefty reward!"

Suddenly, the battlefield outside the castle resounded with the Herders’ dreaded battle cry "Uukhai!" once more.

Chiliarch Swift Hawk, shocked and with a voice raw from shouting, sounded the alarm, "More bipeds are coming! Fight them to the end!"

Montaigne’s silvery grey warhorse leaped up through a gap in the wall, joining the battle.

Through the smoke and dust, Winters caught sight of the horse-tail standard and the Green Plumed Feathers on the eastern wall.

Colonel Robert, holding Colonel Laszlo, whose life and death were uncertain, shouted from afar at Winters, "Lieutenant Montaigne! Scale the wall! Take down the flag!"

Varga, with a hole in his face, lay quietly beside Colonel Robert; the gods hadn’t protected him.

The next moment, a hole appeared in Colonel Robert’s breastplate, and he incredulously touched the armor, slowly toppling backward.

"Scale the wall!" Winters’ heart felt as though it was being clenched by an invisible hand, suddenly compressing; with a cry of anguish, he shouted, "Scale the wall! Musketeers! Shoot down the Green Plumed Feathers!"

The Montaigne squad’s sword and shield bearers and musketeers circumvented the melee and attacked the stairway leading up the wall.

"Shoot the one on the silver horse!" Swift Hawk spotted the Centurion on the silvery grey warhorse right away, calling to the musketeers beside him, "[Herde Language] Hit his warhorse!"

The enraged Winters released an Arrow Flying Spell at the Green Plumed Feathers, "Shut up!"

But the distance was too far; the steel dart missed its mark. The Green Plumed Feather, unharmed, watched as more and more musketeers turned their muzzles toward Winters.

"Little one, stand firm, don’t move," Winters whispered to his warhorse.

Strung stood immobile, the broken wall beside him splintered with bullet hits, sending dust and wood chips flying.

Winters kicked off his stirrups, stood in the saddle, and in Xial’s cry of alarm, directly leaped onto the wall from the gap.

Even the barbarians on the wall looked on dumbfounded.

Not until Winters swung his warhammer, caving in the skull of a musketeer, did the other barbarians snap out of their trance.

"[Herde Language] It’s that guy!" The musketeers and archers desperately fled, "He’s back again!"

"Him again! Want another turn?" Swift Hawk cursed and commanded, "Arrow Quiver soldiers! Surround and kill that knight!"

The tribal leaders had chosen their bravest warriors to guard the great tents, allowing them to carry arrow quivers by their side, hence known as "Arrow Quiver soldiers."

Twenty Arrow Quiver soldiers, clad in double-layered armor and wielding axes, received the order and, against the fleeing rush of archers and musketeers, charged towards Winters—Swift Hawk had prepared them for this very moment.

Seeing the ferocious barbarian warriors rushing towards Winters, Xial screamed, his voice hoarse, "Quick, help the Centurion! Human ladder! Get me on that wall!"

The battlefield was chaotically loud, but Winters seemed to be able to hear his own heartbeat. He had only one target in his vision: the horse-tail standard and the Green Plumed Feathers.

He raised his hand, firing two consecutive Arrow Flying Spells.

One hit the chest, and the Arrow Quiver soldier staggered momentarily but kept charging forward.

The other struck dead center on the faceplate; an Arrow Quiver soldier suddenly sported a bloody hole in his face and fell face-first to the ground.

Winters’s Arrow Flying Spell lacked the power to penetrate double-layered armor at a distance. It was only effective up close by targeting the weak spots like the faceplate.

The barbarians were well-prepared—so what?

Winters pulled a glass vial from his wrist guard and, closing his eyes, crushed it.

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A lightning-like dazzling light burst from his hand, briefly illuminating the entire fortress.

The Arrow Quiver soldiers were first blinded by a wash of white, then plunged into darkness, clutching their eyes and screaming.

A Flash Spell eradicated the Arrow Quiver soldiers’ vision, and Winters charged into their midst with his warhammer.

The first Arrow Quiver soldier to face him had his skull crushed by the hammer without a sound, collapsing backward.

The second Arrow Quiver soldier’s seven orifices bled as he was struck, but he did not die instantly. With his last bit of strength, he shouted, "He’s here!"