Chapter 69: The War Begins

  Tens of thousands of barbarians approached the Saikenda outpost. From a distance, they first saw a column of smoke rising, and then the gate opened. As thicker smoke rose, the high-ranking barbarians began to get really angry.

  The Ussuri chieftain's face was gloomy, not uttering a word. He sat upright in the highest chair on the high platform, which was being carried by hundreds of slaves, moving steadily with the footsteps of the surrounding warriors. The atmosphere on the platform was tense.

  "These bastards have burned down their own warehouse!" The chieftains gathered on the high platform of the central army, excitedly discussing, "Kill them all!"

  The warehouse was burned down, indicating that there were no more supplies in the outpost, whether it was food or military equipment, all turned to ashes in the flames. This made the looters very dissatisfied.

  "Pass on the order." Usuris stopped the chieftains' discussion, "Usuris tribe archers go forward, giant axe warriors follow behind, trample down the enemies in front!"

  The tribal warriors were all the chieftain's clansmen and also his property. The indignant chieftains on the high platform put away their angry expressions, sincerely praising Ussuri's noble virtues and the powerful strength of the Ussuri tribe. Everyone wants spoils of war, but it is always good to have fewer deaths among one's own people.

  A leader of an alliance who does not send them to their deaths heralds a bright future.

  The army halted at a distance of several hundred paces from the outpost. From the vast and disorderly crowd, about three hundred barbarians wearing animal hides ran out, two hundred holding bows, one hundred carrying huge axes on their backs, and holding smaller throwing axes in their hands. They ran to the front gate of the Saikenda outpost, fifty paces away, and the archers lined up and fired in unison under the command of a well-equipped little commander.

  The north is severely cold, and the trees that grow here are all high-quality timber. The longbow of the barbarian archer is made from a whole piece of wood, which is also considered top-notch among longbows. However, the barbarians have little iron, so many of the arrows shot out in a row use sharpened stones as arrowheads, and some even simply sharpen the wooden rod.

  The Oserian Kingdom was famous for its two-handed swordsmen and great axe warriors, but on the battlefield, everyone still carried a shield for charging. At this time, the soldiers in the outpost formed a formation, standing at the gate of the camp, holding their shields in front of them. The shields were not round shields, but broad shields taken from the warehouse. The barbarians' rough arrows shot onto it, making a "dang" sound, but could not penetrate. Occasionally, stray arrows would shoot through the gaps and hit the soldiers in the back row, lightly piercing their helmets, only opening up a small wound on their bodies, which was not serious.

  Seeing the bow and arrow men were of no use, a giant axe warrior among them let out a loud shout, ordering the bow and arrow men to scatter to both sides. One hundred large men holding flying axes emerged from behind, slowly approaching the gate.

  The barbarians were short of iron, but they spared no expense on their elite troops. All one hundred men had iron axes in hand. As they approached the gate of the camp, within twenty paces or so, the crowd took turns coming forward and throwing out the weapons in their hands with force.

  The flying axe was no less than the crudely made arrow, and at this distance, the heavy flying axe slammed into the shield with a rotating force, immediately nailing it on. The broad shields in the hands of the first row of soldiers quickly cracked and shattered, and were immediately chopped to death by the axes that followed closely behind, falling to the ground.

  The defensive position was no longer tenable, and the centurion crouched behind his shield shouted: "Ossetin's warriors! Charge!" After shouting, he threw down the shield in his hand, pulled out a giant sword from the soil beside him, and charged out with his comrades.

  As they see the opponent charging, the giant axe warriors also stop throwing. They take down the giant axe from their back, grasp it with both hands, let out a loud roar, and charge forward.

  Within a distance of twenty steps, it was not enough for the soldiers on both sides to run out of speed. The first row of soldiers laid their swords flat and thrust them forward like long spears, immediately stabbing four or five giant axe warriors at the head of the formation to death. But that's all. After the impact, the front line quickly became chaotic, with giant swords slashing and giant axes chopping, blood and limbs flying in the air above the battlefield, the sound of metal clashing echoing constantly. Shouting, roaring, screaming, the sounds on the battlefield were forever monotonous.

  The soldiers of Aosaitin were not weak, but those who could wield the giant axe were the elite of the tribe. Even with passion and faith, the gap in strength could not be easily bridged. The battle did not last long, when the centurion was killed by the enemy in front of him, he was also harvested without suspense by the last swing of the deceased. He was the last Aosaitin to fall.

  The bloody smell filled the air, and the broken bones were all over the ground. The surviving giant axe warriors first took a few deep breaths, then looked up at the sky and let out a wild roar, celebrating their victory. Behind them, the Ussuri Saman had already come forward, dancing in front of the formation, chanting incantations, sending off the deceased warriors, offering the enemy's flesh and blood to Azugar.

  Azog likes fresh blood.

  The arsenal was burned down, but fortunately the first battle was won and it was a beautiful fight. The morale of the barbarian army suddenly rose.

  "Alert! Alert!" The lookout at the Morrol outpost yelled again to those below shortly after the crowd had dispersed, "Quickly, quickly fetch Officer Muller over here!"

  What happened? The soldiers who had just dispersed gathered again on the school grounds.

  "What's wrong, soldier?" Tim asked, frowning as he stepped out of the cabin.

  "Something new is happening in the East!"

  At this time, Odara also came to Tim's side. They both turned their heads and looked eastward.

  "Is this... a wolf smoke signal?" Odara asked puzzled after gazing at it for a while.

  "Not." Tim's brow furrowed even tighter, "This isn't a wolf smoke signal now."

  In the distance to the east, the smoke pillar has thickened considerably.

  "This has never happened before." Tim withdrew his gaze, looking at Odara. "If I'm not mistaken, the warriors of that outpost have already given their lives for Odin. What we saw was the black smoke rising after the camp was burned."

  Audrey was shocked by his words and remembered what she had said before, "Those guys are really lucky", her face sank.

  "Don't blame yourself, it has nothing to do with you." Tim comforted Odara, who looked different, "They will get eternal life in Odin's place."

  Then he loudly issued the command: "Osadin's warriors, enter war alert!"

  The headquarters of the First Army of the Northern Expeditionary Force.

  "Pass on my orders!" Iwida slammed her hand down. "All troops assemble in emergency, except for those near the Saikenda outpost!"

  He walked back and forth in the house for a few steps, then issued new orders: "The troops directly under the Ministry of Military Affairs assemble! Set off towards the Saikenda sentry post!"

  Late winter and early spring were not a good time for raiding, nor had they ever been. The barbarians' stores were running low, and the Ossetians did not have much either. But the agricultural Ossetians always had some reserves, which was enough to satisfy the starving barbarians.

  "Assemble here in five days." Usuri, the chieftain of Uralis, held a brief meeting in front of Jiaohei's sentry post warehouse. "Set off on time in five days. The spoils will be distributed after leaving Osaedan. Now, let the scramble begin!"

  The villagers of Ossetia were also warriors, but under the blows of the barbarians, who outnumbered them several times, not a single village could survive. The Ossetians are not a people suitable for slavery, so in every village there were scattered heaps of corpses.

  "Hurry, hurry up." All the chiefs were urging their own tribesmen, "You, you, take twenty people to transport these things back and forth. The rest of you, hurry up, throw down your things and leave, think about your wives and children at home, we're going to the next village."

  The Ussuri chieftain led his tribe and six loyal clans to the nearest town on the border. The town had 500 garrison troops, as well as several thousand residents. However, the Ossetians who lived in the town were not as skilled in martial arts as those in the villages. A life of ease does not necessarily destroy a people's warrior spirit, but it weakens it. Under the repeated encirclement and fearless charge of over 3,000 barbarians, the town was breached within a day. The 500 defenders all died in battle, and the residents who assisted in the defense were slaughtered. The street fighting continued, but its end was not far off.

  After this battle, the military strength of the Ussuri tribe increased sharply. Not all warehouses will be burned in time, and as the largest force, the leader of the alliance will always have some special privileges.

  When Iwida led the first batch of reinforcements to the scene, the barbarian army had largely withdrawn to the ruins of Saikenda outpost. What was left for Osedin's soldiers were only two greedy tribes, looted villages and towns, and corpses that did not have time to be cleaned up.

  The robbers were all busy moving house.

  The king was enraged and the whole country was shocked. The holy temple issued a divine decree: Revenge!

  When news from the north reached the small village of Vichy in the south of Osedin, Johnny was nervously preparing for the upcoming duel.

  Stefan had felt Odin's anger ten days ago, but he only understood the reason today. Oracle is not something that can be sent to anyone casually.

  New grudges and old hatreds are piling up together. Nowadays, when the farmers of Vishir are hoeing, they all add a few more strokes, as if the hoe is under those despicable barbarians. As for the hot-blooded young people, their hands and feet have also become heavier during mutual polishing, as if the opponent in front of them is the murderer on the northern border.

  "Jonah, hold up." Stefan said as he came into the backyard, "Come with me."

  When Joanie learned about the border war, she was only surprised for a moment, and then it was business as usual. Astrid was the same way. Although they were now considered Osadin people, they weren't native-born and didn't have much sense of identity. For Joanie, the invasion of the barbarian tribes from the south was something he had heard about many times in his past life, and the legend of the two-legged sheep was also familiar to him. Robbery and murder were not things that could arouse too much indignation in him - especially since it wasn't the Hua Xia people who were being killed.

  And for Aesthryl, her enemy is the Solarian Church.

  "You must have heard," Stephen said gravely. "Ossetin's northern border has been raided by the barbarians."

  Jony nodded.

  "Odin's temple has sent a divine revelation, demanding us to take revenge, didn't you know?"

  Jony nodded.

  "I've thought about it, and after you and Lancelot are done competing, I'll arrange for you both to enlist. You need to grow up in war."

  "What?"

  Joni wasn't surprised about enlisting, he just noticed a key word.

  "Are we being enlisted? Are Lancelot and I in the same army?"

  "Of course not." The old man shook his head slowly, "What I want to ask is, do you have any opinions about this arrangement?"

  "Any opinions?" Joanie didn't think much and replied straightforwardly: "No opinion."

  He believed that Lao Lao wouldn't put him in any particularly dangerous place.

  "Then keep practicing."

  Oscetin has not had a large-scale war for many years. After the initial anger, people found that this was an opportunity, an opportunity to talk about war. The Northern Army had enough soldiers, but during the pre-war preparations, the Northern Army expanded rapidly. Oscetin's hot-blooded young men turned from civilians into soldiers, just by changing their clothes. Each of the big families mobilized their connections and transferred their sons from all over the place to join the Northern Army. One after another, new barracks were set up, and after a brief training, the new recruits were directly given volunteer numbers and sent to the front lines.

  If the First Army's reinforcements were the war machine in motion, then at this time, Ossetia's state machinery was running at full speed.

  A few days later, on the empty land beside the church, a man and a woman were fighting with swords, the battle was intense. Many people gathered around to watch.

  Attack, defend, counterattack. Two disciples taught by the same master are putting their skills to the test. Johnny's swordsmanship is slightly inferior, Lancelot's strength does not match Johnny's. The two cancel each other out, and they have been fighting for a long time.

  Lancelot, after giving up on brute force, went to challenge his former underlings every day. Lancelot, whose strength had suddenly dropped dramatically, was naturally no match for these young men. His habitual powerful moves all failed due to insufficient strength. However, after two or three matches, Lancelot gradually got used to it and regained the upper hand. Although he still lost sometimes, he mostly won.

  In less than a month's time, Lancelot had fully adapted to his new physical condition. Even without strength, the giant sword had countless ways to defeat and win.

  Jony is no exception. After a month of special training, he felt that he had undergone a thorough transformation.

  It ended in a stalemate.

  At this moment, the two had just ended a round of fighting, five steps apart, with swords facing each other. From their slightly hurried breathing sounds, Jony and Lancelot both knew that the other was tired.

  Of course, I'm also tired.

  These two people are like two sheets of white paper with the same oil painting drawn on them by the same person. Which one is better? Heaven knows.

  How to attack, how to defend, how to counterattack after defending, and how to respond when being counterattacked... are all carefully practiced techniques. The moves themselves have lost their original meaning.

  "Stop!" Stefan shouted, ending a match that could have gone on much longer. "It's a tie."

  "I can still fight!" they exclaimed in unison, then exchanged a glance and looked away.

  "I know," Steven said with a smile. "But that doesn't make sense anymore. You've all learned well."

  The people around cheered up. From both the perspective of watching a show and from the perspective of watching a doorway, the battle just now was very wonderful.

  "Everyone has dispersed." The old man called out, then turned to the young boy and girl, "Follow me back, prepare well, and set off early tomorrow morning."

  When the two returned to the church hall, Astrid was waiting for them.

  Unlike Johnny and Lancelot, Aestrel didn't plan on going to the front lines. For an archer, practicing their aim was enough, no need to go to the battlefield to hone it further, at least that's what she thought. Now that she had gained the power of Brute Strength, drawing her composite bow was effortless, and the range and speed of the arrows also made her very satisfied. Nowadays, nobody dared to be her moving target anymore. Aestrel's arrow shot out, even from fifty paces away, seemed like just an instant. And this kind of powerful arrow hitting one's body wasn't a normal kind of pain.

  Everything is centered around enhancing strength.

  But today, Aethereia stopped her training. To bid farewell, Aethereia decided to see off Jony and Lancelot, not knowing when they would meet again, or if... She dared not think about it, she could only pray to her own god, praying for their safety on the battlefield.

  Since childhood, these two have been Astrid's only friends of the same age. Moreover, even for revenge, their help is needed.

  But at this time, Astrid was just simply worried about her friend.