[FDJ]Chapter 15: Orleans in the Flames of War

Arrows rained down densely, "cleansing" the walls, haystacks, fences... round after round, until there were no more living beings in that area. The reassembled cavalry in the city urged their attendants to hand them new weapons as the lord had issued the command to fight to the death. Although it was unclear where the lord found the courage to decide on a desperate fight, these mounted professional soldiers understood that surrender was not an option. Rather than huddling inside the city and waiting to be shot, it was better to charge out and engage in a bloody battle.

Perhaps God would guide them to a way out. Shouting random slogans, the cavalry set off first, followed by infantry rushing out of the city. In theory, this was their last opportunity to leave the city. At this moment, the enemy's arrow rain had temporarily ceased.

Under the leadership of their lord, the most powerful cavalry force in the city maneuvered out from a side gate, attempting to strike the enemy's flank. No one knew how long the courage of these mounted warriors would endure.

The heavy cavalry that confronted them had a more imposing presence than this motley group. Although they all claimed to be free cities under Roman rule, the invading enemy was far more professional, fierce, and advanced in terms of civilization. Even a farmer who only knew how to till the land could discern which side was more powerful.

Among the enemy's forces, there was a king, a rumor known to the city's residents: that the king had a massive mouth capable of swallowing lions and at least seven pairs of tree-trunk-like arms. With a single roar from that king, the sky would change. The king did not consume bread or milk but satisfied his hunger with the flesh and blood of the fallen in battle, making him a more terrifying presence than a demon. No army could withstand the charge of that king, let alone the knights under the lord's command, and not even the walls of Constantinople could withstand a single round.

Helpless residents gathered in so-called safe areas or their own homes. Some militia and "mercenary" guards hired by the lord from an unknown source stood watch on the main streets and intersections to prevent the residents from causing chaos. Even though the residents couldn't see the battle outside the city, they could hear the footsteps of death approaching through the increasingly closer sounds of arrows.

While the arrow rain had stopped, the fighting outside the city was entering the second half. The defensive forces, who had been hunkered down for a long time, finally launched a somewhat decent charge. But it was just somewhat decent.

This city was doomed, not because the walls were not strong enough or the defenders were not brave enough, but because they had the misfortune of encountering that king. No one could stop all of this, and the defenders were only provoking that king and his most ferocious invaders with their lives. After the city fell, the residents would undoubtedly be captured one by one, beheaded, and their heads piled up as ritual sacrifices for the enemy's wizards. Some women might have a chance to survive, but it was better to hope for a swift death and avoid inhumane torture.

"We're finished! Orleans is finished!" someone shouted in the gathering place.

Two hundred farmers who had originally lived outside the city were gathered here. They had never seen such a terrifying army since birth. The atmosphere of fear immediately spread among them and ignited when an arrow fell in front of the gathering place.

It was probably an accidental shot from an enemy marksman, but the farmers inside the gathering place didn't know that. They were frightened birds, hastily picking up their belongings, wanting to escape outside.

The militia captain responsible for maintaining order immediately blew his whistle, ordering his subordinates to forcefully maintain order and block the exits of the gathering place.

"Quiet down, all of you! You bunch of useless hens and bald piglets! If you don't want to die right away, then shut the hell up!" The axe struck heavily on the pillar of the gathering place's door, and the few farmers who were running in front stopped in their tracks. It was clear that this axe was even bloodier than the butcher's smell in the village and more suitable for chopping off their heads.

After a few unruly farmers were caught and beaten, the militia captain was finally satisfied, lifting his large axe and continuing to shout, "I asked before if any of you knew how to shoot arrows. Why didn't you speak up then? Now you can't sit still? All of you, continue squatting inside! Whoever dares to make a noise again, I'll chop off their chicken necks!"

It wasn't a matter of conscience for these ragtag soldiers but rather the ruthless pursuit of profit. These people had been engaged in banditry just a few months ago, and now they were maintaining order in the city to earn gold. Only merciless self-interest could help people overcome fear and do some good deeds in the final hours.

Limited human heads could only satisfy the bloodthirsty army outside the city for a while. As the battle continued until 3 p.m., the enemy, who had taken a short rest, launched another round of attacks on the city of Orleans. Most of the "warriors" who had charged outside the city at noon had already become the enemy's achievements, and less than 30% of those who managed to escape back remained.

The Lord of Orleans, who had been listening all along, was still declaring a decisive battle on the city walls, claiming that as long as they held on until dawn, the Romans would arrive here, and the civilized iron hooves would trample the barbarians outside the city.

However, the Lord's luck ran out at this moment. An archer outside the city shot an arrow into his chest, and neither the best chainmail nor the breastplate provided any protection. His guards were too late to block the arrow with their shields, and before they could reach the priest, the commander of the Orleans city garrison died on the spot.

The skilled archer who killed the Lord was positioned far behind the army formation. With her accuracy and shooting distance that ordinary people couldn't achieve, she seized the credit for the kill.

"Go and tell your king that the Lord of Orleans has been killed by me. Don't miss this opportunity and capture the city before nightfall." Her tone was relatively arrogant, but she could speak like that to the messenger and even directly to the king.

The archer could have completed her mission when the Lord first ascended the city walls, but she didn't want to end the siege so quickly. Moreover, there were no Servants in the enemy's city, and such a direct annihilation of hope would make her appear too cruel. The arrow shot at the Lord also had a reserve, otherwise, with her current abilities, the obese Lord would not have been carried down from the city walls intact but would have been taken away in pieces.

The skilled archer was not concerned about the subsequent battles. Three consecutive waves of attacking forces charged towards the city walls, and the Orleans city walls would not hold until sunset. It would soon turn into street fighting, provided that the defenders in the city could still raise their weapons to resist.

The agile cat's ears trembled slightly, and the skilled archer, holding the bow of the heavens, seemed to hear a voice that should not have appeared, right here in the city of Orleans—a Servant had arrived.

Not only did she notice the anomaly in the city, but the king, who was sitting in the command tent receiving reports from his subordinates, also noticed. Orleans, which was already within his grasp, unexpectedly had a Servant appear, completely contradicting the previous reconnaissance results—there was no magus in Orleans.

At this moment, in the center of Orleans, a large number of injured soldiers were being treated in the square. The news of the Lord's death had not yet reached here; it was only circulating near the city walls.

Without a summoner, without a magic circle, a silvery magical light suddenly appeared in front of the water pool. The wounded soldiers were all attracted to this miraculous scene. Their understanding couldn't explain this phenomenon; undoubtedly, it must be a sign from their Lord.

The light became more dazzling, and a spiritual summoning magic circle gradually appeared on the ground. Responding to the call of Orleans City, the Sword Servant split from the Throne of Heroes and descended here, using the spiritual veins beneath Orleans City as the initial magical power.

The fully armed male swordsman stood with swords in both hands in front of the water pool. He didn't need to explain to the wounded soldiers around him; the invisible power influenced this group of soldiers who had just come down from the battlefield. A true knight had arrived.

The knight drew his sword and surveyed the injured soldiers around him. Perhaps his army was not qualified enough at the moment, but there was no time to pick and choose. He responded to the call of Orleans City and came to save this city, which was as important as participating in the Holy Grail War.

"Those who can still stand, those who are willing to return to the front lines, those who are not afraid of death, join me in fighting the enemy!" Unsheathing his sword, the knight's roar carried a strange magical power, further igniting the fighting spirit of the wounded soldiers present. Instantly, their wounds no longer throbbed with intense pain but weakened to a bearable level.

Fight! Resist! Protect the city of Orleans!

The slogan gradually became orderly, and some of the soldiers who had retreated from the city gates unconsciously turned around and joined this small group of less than a hundred people. When the Knight (Saber) led the army to the city gate, they encountered the first wave of enemy soldiers rushing into the city.

A fierce battle was about to break out, and no one could have expected that the Orleans city defenders, who had already been completely defeated, would erupt with such astonishing momentum under the leadership of a strange knight. Previously, a single Hun soldier could easily defeat three defenders, but now the first hundred-person unit to charge through the city gate couldn't even hold on for 15 minutes before being easily defeated by a group of wounded soldiers.

More defeated defenders rallied around this knight, and as the glow of the setting sun began to shine on the backs of the Huns, they made no further progress after breaking through the city gate. Instead, they were forced to retreat one by one by the defenders. The veterans who had fought against the Roman regular army couldn't believe it. They had previously thought that the weak Gauls could only rely on sheer strength to push them back in close combat.

"Retreat! Retreat!" The messenger cavalry finally arrived at the city and conveyed the king's latest orders to the eager generals who wished to personally join the battle.

"The enemy is already on their last gasp. Just give me a little more time, and we will take the city gate!" the general refused to give up. Even though a miracle had occurred, human bodies still had limits. He could see that the defenders, who were able to fight ten enemies at once just now, were showing signs of retreat.

"No, General, the king doesn't doubt your ability to take the city gate with your troops. It's because the Romans have arrived!"

Following the rhythmically swaying slopes in the west, a powerful force quickly spread to the city of Orleans. The cavalry forces of the Western Roman Empire were advancing towards Orleans.

"But wasn't the intelligence saying that the Romans would come tomorrow?" the general complained. Seeing the astonishing number of Roman troops, he immediately ordered his subordinates to convey the retreat order.

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