Chapter 72: Encounter Battle

  On the vast expanse of wilderness, large and small forests are scattered. When winter passes and spring arrives, everything in the forest quietly awakens.

  The forest savages live in these woods. They make a living by hunting, with expertise in archery and spear-throwing, and are known to their enemies for their elusive figures. Occasionally there will be particularly strong warriors, but the main body of the tribes is still the hunters who dart through the forest.

  Tim Müller and his hundred men walked out of the forest in disappointment. Just a moment ago, they had seen tree houses that once belonged to a forest barbarian tribe. Undoubtedly, they were abandoned.

  Although the forest barbarians did not participate in the looting due to their beliefs, they had already sniffed out the taste of war. The news from the wasteland passed through each tribe with the gradually distant cold wind, and the news of the barbarian alliance's invasion of Osdin frightened all those near the border.

  "Damn it, damn it!" Even the normally calm Tim was getting frustrated, "All of them escaped, every single one! The forest savages ran away with their tails between their legs, and I couldn't even hit any of them!"

  The aristocratic decurions around him frowned but said nothing.

  Fortunately, the warriors caught some game in the forest, so it wasn't a wasted trip.

  "Sir, what do we do next?" asked Alfreid, the noble young man carrying the flame-shaped greatsword that made Oudara jealous, "It's already been five days."

  "What else can we do?" Tim replied irritably, "Keep moving forward!"

  The warriors had lost the excitement they had at the beginning. They hung their heads and followed silently behind the team. The team was still tidy, but morale was low. This low morale didn't seem to please anyone, but Tim didn't intervene. He knew that once they found the enemy, the boys would immediately perk up.

  Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. Several dark shadows flew out of the forest. A hapless soldier had an arrow in his neck, with a burst of blood flowers, and fell to the ground, apparently already dead.

  "Enemy attack!"

  Without being ordered by their officers, the soldiers took down their round shields from their backs and held them in front of themselves, facing the forest, with the wounded protected behind them.

  Tim turned back and glanced at the corpse on the ground. On the neck of the corpse was a short crossbow bolt.

  Crossbow arrow?

  No time to think, another wave of crossbow bolts came flying from the woods. The accuracy of the crossbowmen was not great, or perhaps they were too confident in their weapons, and this round of attacks was all blocked by the circular shields. The soldiers who were hit glanced at their own shields, and through the wooden boards, they saw sharp three-edged iron arrowheads.

  A loud shout came from the woods, and a large group of barbarians with frightening designs painted on their faces charged out of the forest, swinging axes. Just in time, another round of crossbow bolts flew in - Tim saw where they were coming from: several trees had barbarians perched in them, using brute force to draw back the strings by hand. Looking down at the base of the trees, more barbarians were running forward, flinging throwing axes and then pulling out heavy double-headed battle-axes from their backs, yelling as they charged towards the Ossetin men.

  The flying axes that were thrown over were all good iron things, chopping on the shields, and instantly squeezed out a seam. The round shield was not big after all, and many flying axes rushed down the road. Cries of pain, shattered shields, nearly the entire first row of the hundred-man team fell down.

  Tim had already felt something was off when he saw the crossbow bolts, and now looking at the enemy's equipment, the normally brave centurion seemed to be on the verge of despair. Iron-tipped throwing axes, iron-heavy giant double-headed battle-axes. The enemies that appeared before them had already exceeded their level of ability to cope.

  "Alfred!" he bellowed, "Take your men back to the beacon! Bring back word of the enemy's dispositions! Ballista, iron axes, barbarian elite, remember!"

  "What?!... I'll fight!" Al's hot blood was burning up.

  "Obey orders, Decurion!" Tim was getting angry, "Don't let the brothers' sacrifices be in vain!"

  At this time, the enemy had already rushed into the formation of the hundred-man squad.

  "Scram, you bastard!" Tim ran up to Al and gave him a vicious kick in the ribs before drawing his sword and joining the fight.

  The Frederick family is a prominent family in Oserdin, the founding merit, and has a high status in the military. The Fredericks have never produced any trash. This was not only the reason why Tim let Al leave the battlefield to convey the message, but also the reason why Al obeyed this order.

  When the heat of the blood had cooled down a bit, Al had already understood his responsibility. The task of an emissary was to deliver messages, not to die heroically. So he retreated, taking with him the seven soldiers who were still alive and fleeing the battlefield without looking back.

  The giant sword was almost as tall as a person, and the double-headed battle-axe was about the length of an arm. At this time, the personnel on the scene were densely packed, and neither side could swing their blades easily. The barbarian raised his axe high and chopped down fiercely, and the harsh survival conditions on the wasteland had eliminated the weak and selected the strong. These strong savages had also self-selected and chosen these elite warriors. Even the notoriously ferocious Osdin people couldn't withstand this heavy blow head-on. All the soldiers who chose to raise their swords felt numbness in their arms, unable to make any counterattack moves.

  There were also warriors who chose to attack. They charged forward with their swords at the moment the barbarians came within range. The sharp giant sword easily pierced through the barbarian's chest, but its owner was also struck down by the dying man's final slash.

  After the impact, just like that day in front of the Saikenda Barracks gate, the Ossetians quickly fell into a bitter battle.

  The heavy battle-axes in the hands of these barbarians seemed like an extremely light longsword, striking again and again, with a heavy force that left the warriors who bore the brunt of the attack powerless to counterattack, only able to barely hold on. On both sides of the stagnant front line, soldiers from both sides were making it longer. The powerful double-handed swordsmen opened up the barbarians' battle-axes without holding back, and with a swing of their massive swords, they slashed at the barbarians' leather cloaks, pulling them to one side. The sharp blade easily cut through the barbarians' leather armor, then slid across a layer of chainmail.

  The warrior was slightly stunned, and the barbarian in front of him also seemed to be frightened. The movements of both sides stopped for a moment. But soon, both parties reacted. At this time, the battle line had dispersed, and the barbarian grinned and slashed sideways with his waist. The Osadin man jumped back, barely dodging, then he loudly shouted towards the direction where Tim was in his memory: "They have chain armor!"

  The sound was everywhere, and Ossetin's soldiers were all startled.

  Tim killed the enemy in front of him, released his weapon and jumped to the side, dodging the battle axe that was swung down by the opponent before he died. He then returned to the barbarian who had not yet died, grasped the hilt of his sword, kicked out with one foot, using the force to pull the sword out. At this time, hearing the words from under his hand, he carefully looked at the place where the giant sword was pulled out and found that there were indeed broken iron rings exposed under the armor.

  "Damn it." Tim cursed, took two steps to the side, thrust out his sword and helped his comrade get rid of a big trouble, then said, "You, also run back, find Al, or go back to the outpost directly."

  Before he could finish speaking, a barbarian appeared at his door with an axe in hand.

  "Tell the ones above!" Tim kicked aside a warrior next to him, then jumped in the opposite direction himself, dodging the barbarian's overhead slash, and shouted, "The barbarians have chainmail!"

  No time for nonsense, the soldier seemed to understand some reason, nodded and turned around to run.

  Three crossbow bolts were stuck in his back. The barbarian's aim was indeed poor.

  At this time, there were not many Asgardians left on the battlefield. More than 50 barbarians were chopping down the remaining team of less than 30 people. Tim, although skilled in martial arts, also knew that today was the day to meet Odin.

  The only consolation is that I have already sent the intelligence back.

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  For this ambush, Usuri tribe's shaman Dalara was very dissatisfied.

  There were tribes that once lived near the outpost who guided them, and they hastened on their way, setting up an ambush at the edge of the dens of those cowards in the forest. Thanks to Azugar, these southern barbarians have indeed come here.

  Dalaru's face darkened as he gazed out at the battlefield, which was filled with the stench of blood. The discomfort in his heart gradually appeared on his face.

  The loss is too great.

  On the day of the big army's southern expedition, Dararu was also present. What he saw was that the Ussuri tribe's hundred giant axe warriors killed the Nanmanzi as easily as chopping firewood, with almost no loss. Although the battle-axe warriors brought out by Dararu this time were not as elite as the giant axe warriors, they killed less than ninety of the Nanmanzi patrol team and lost thirty-four people...

  Dala Ru could imagine the reaction of the clan leader when he heard this news.

  "Trash, you are the shame of the Ussuri tribe!" He withdrew his gaze from the battlefield and cast it on the three savages behind him, "A bunch of trash!"

  The three barbarians held crossbows in their hands and lowered their heads, not daring to make a sound.

  "The chief trusts you, handing over the fine weapons brought by the distant guests. And you?" Dalara had already decided to vent his anger on these three bastards, "Besides the first shot, have you hit anyone else?"

  What he was truly angry about were the three stray crossbow bolts that had been fired at the weak and fleeing soldier. As for the news of the armor, the tribal leader had strictly forbidden it from being spread outside.

  "Prepare to face the wrath of the clan leader!" Dalara roared, "Even Azugar the Great God will not forgive you!"

  The three of them fell to their knees with a thud and trembled with fear.

  They have all experienced the wrath of Azog.

  Blood sacrifices to the gods, praying for forgiveness; human flesh offerings to the belly, remembering shame.

  These three people have eaten.

  "Rise." Dalara waved his hand, and found that his words seemed to have been said a bit heavily. These three people who picked up the axe were also excellent warriors, and the tribe leader may not agree to use them to please the great god.

  But it's also good to scare them. Dalara looked at the three people kneeling on the ground, not daring to raise their heads, and felt much better in her heart.

  "Take away the weapons and armor." He looked back at the battlefield and ordered loudly.

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  Joni and Astrid were approaching their destination. The pedestrians on the road gradually increased, mostly young people carrying huge swords or large axes, with more men than women. They came from all over Ocedin, near and far. But at this time, they gathered together, marching towards the war in their dreams.

  "The blood of the Ossetians is flowing with a warlike spirit." Stefan once said to Johnny, "During the First Empire of Velsa, the war spirit of the Ossetians was suppressed by the imperial army; when the War of the Gods and the chaos on the continent came, the long-suppressed ferocity was suddenly released, like a giant beast let out of its cage. The soldiers from the North were the bravest and most bloodthirsty in every camp. As time passed slowly, when this giant beast had nowhere to vent its fury, it began to gnaw at its own limbs."

  At that time, Joanie was very interested in this topic: "Is it referring to civil war?"

  "That's right. I'll tell you the history of this land later. In short, you must know that the Northern War God Odin is not a war god who advocates for war, but rather seeks to enhance personal martial power. The existence of the Temple of Odin also does not mean to host wars. For a long time, we have been suppressing the madness of the Asgardians."

  "This beast is let out again!" Johnny said softly as he looked at the increasingly crowded road.

  "What did you say?" Lancelot rode his horse closer, leaning his head towards Johnny and asked curiously.

  Joan's original adventure war story was soon told. Johnny looked at Lancelot, who seemed to be interested despite his poor complexion, and even became slightly more intimate with him. So he took advantage of the good momentum and quickly opened a new pit... a new story.

  To talk about female heroes and strong women, Qiao Ni knows quite a few. What about Hua Mulan, Wu Zetian, Liang Hongyu, Du Shiniang... Unfortunately, none of them can be mentioned.

  Finally, Jony let out a sigh and squeezed out a smile as he looked at Lancelot: "This is a story about the growth of heroes. Once upon a time, there was a young lady lord named Uesugi Kenshin..."

  He transformed Ken Shin into a girl. Then Johnny paused for a moment and changed his words: "This name is a bit awkward, let's call him Arthur."

  He has another daughter.

  "Arthur? Ah, that's a boy's name too!" Lancelot's appetite picked up, "And then?"

  He has a friend and subordinate named Lancelot.

  Of course, Joni didn't say anything about King Arthur. He just applied what he still remembered about Uesugi Kenshin to Arthur. Japan's small-scale warfare was perfectly suited to the background of this era.

  The story ended in a mess, and if it weren't for the conscription point, Joanie had no idea how to wrap up the story. He remembered that Uesugi Kenshin's sister/uncle died when he was around 40 or 50 years old?

  It's a big taboo to kill off the main character, especially when facing the audience directly.

  "Next time remember to help me continue!" After a few days, Lancelot's attitude towards Johnny had changed quite a bit.

  She actually used an adorable ending tone like "oh".

  "Alright." Johnny didn't have much of a reaction, "Good luck with your efforts!"

  "Yeah, you too." With that, Lancelot turned and walked away without looking back.

  Really stubborn. Joanie shook her head with a bitter smile, turned her horse's head and headed towards the male soldier's gathering point.

  Lancelot's exterior was decisive, but her heart wasn't. She thought she had fallen for that guy from the south. Lancelot knew Jony liked Astrid and she also knew Astrid liked Jony.

  Like...

  Next time we meet, let's just treat him as a normal friend.

  But what about normal friends? Reflecting on his brief life journey, Lancelot only knew what it meant to be a superior and what it meant to be a subordinate.

  Friend?

  Lancelot became more and more depressed.