story

Indeed, the strength of a high-rank Knecht was only enough to protect himself in a war of over a hundred thousand people. Locke continued to talk about how he and the rest fought with the Shalorians on the left side of the Gordon Highlands under Yoshk's leadership. The beautiful pale yellow plains turned into a sea of dark red blood and corpses. The war was not over yet.

On the first day, their squad lost two men, and on the third day, they lost another one. Only a week later, Yoshk's squad was left with only four men. All the serfs were dead, and even one third-rate soldier was dead and one crippled. The crippled one was in the hinterland of the battlefield, so they couldn't bring him back. After getting his consent, Yoshk took care of him and gave him a quick death. Both sides didn't need captives, and everyone knew this. Instead of being tortured to death after being captured, it was better to end it themselves.

Although Yoshk's squad was left with only one second-rate soldier and three third-rate soldiers in the subsequent battles, their combat effectiveness was still there. With fewer people, their tacit understanding was better, and they didn't lose any men in the subsequent battles.

War was war, after all, full of uncertainties. After fighting non-stop for a month, all the troops were scattered, and the vast Gordon Highlands carried more than a hundred thousand people and corpses. When Locke was on duty at night, their camp was ambushed. He couldn't return to the tent to meet up with Yoshk and the others.

Years of fighting at night and his young body gave him good night vision, but that night, he wished he didn't have this ability because there were dangers everywhere. There were too many enemies, and he couldn't see the end of the sea of people. He fought and retreated at the same time, running and running. By the next day, he didn't know where he was. There were battles everywhere. So, Locke joined a battle nearby.

In the evening, after a day and a night of ambush, the enemy retreated. Locke and his fellow Faustian soldiers sat on the ground. Lott heard from his comrades by the bonfire that he'd actually run into the Tiger Division's battle zone. However, they were also scattered. Among them were 2nd Division, 3rd Division, and even a few logistics divisions.

Of course, most of them were from the Tiger Division, but there were also many from Falcon and Wolf. Everyone fought together for a whole day. After cleaning up the corpses of their comrades and settling down the wounded, there were more than two hundred people in total. Under the call of the only captain at that time, they sat down to eat together. Locke had stayed up for a day and a night. He fell into a deep sleep after drinking two mouthfuls of broth.

There was one advantage to not having a direct superior. There was no need to be on night duty, and the superior would not know you. In the following days, there were battles every day. Of course, Locke couldn't leave the group to look for them. So, the two hundred or so men continued to fight under the leadership of Foss. At this time, they had already lost contact with the military. The carrier pigeons had long died, and they didn't know where to send people to get battle orders. Foss led them to the centre of Gordon Highlands, where Lion was located.

Lion was Faustian's trump card. The place where they fought was also the place where the final battle would take place. Locke and the others had no choice but to come. After so many years of war, everyone had fought hard and the cowards were long dead. The second was that if they left the team for more than 20 days, they would be judged as missing.

Missing was only slightly better than deserters. Deserters were sentenced to have their families reduced to slaves, and if they were caught, they would be beheaded at the entrance of the camp as a sacrifice to the flag. On the other hand, if they went missing, their families would be compensated with a negligible amount of money. Firstly, it was because the nobles had the principle of not spending money if they could. Secondly, it was because the military could not determine if the missing person had escaped, been captured, or died.

In short, under such circumstances, most soldiers could not leave the army for too long, especially those who were born as commoners. Locke had been in the army for two years, so he knew this very well. At worst, he would just die in battle, thought Locke more than once. After all, the compensation he received was enough to feed a family of three for five years.

In the late autumn of 1345, in the western province of Shalor, a Faustian army of about 3,000 was fighting with a Shalorian army of about 2,000. The black flag of Faustian had a roaring lion engraved on it, indicating that they belonged to Lion, Faustian's trump card. The red flag of the other unit had a wolf howling at the sky. This was Wolf, Shalor's trump card.

The battle had been going on for a long time. The total number of 5,000 soldiers was almost equivalent to a corps. One side had the advantage in numbers, and the other side seemed to have more supernatural forces supporting them. The 5,000 soldiers were reduced to less than 3,000. At this time, there was no clear distinction between friend and foe on the battlefield. Everyone was fighting the enemies closest to them, slashing with swords, stabbing with knives, and biting with teeth. Everyone was covered in blood, whether it was their own or someone else's.

This was the first scene that Locke's temporary team saw. The leader, Foss, immediately activated his impetus, spurred his horse, and led them into the battlefield.

The commanders of both armies noticed the appearance of such a large group of people. The Shalorians were already struggling to hold on. Seeing that the enemy's reinforcements had arrived, almost all of them were ready to die. Because everyone was fighting in a chaotic battle, there was no way for them to retreat. Without a way out, the Shalorians became more ferocious and the battle heated up. The Faustian commander was the jarl of Lion's 3rd Division, a high-rank Knecht.

His 3rd Division and this Shalorian unit had been fighting back and forth in Gordon for half a month. This was an excellent opportunity to wipe out the Shalorian army. As a high-ranking officer, he knew that Faustian had one more province than Shalor, so they were stronger than Shalor. Moreover, there had been a two-year drought in the country, so the civilians had no food to eat and could only rely on military rations. Recruiting soldiers was not a problem, so the higher-ups of Faustian planned to take Shalor by force.

Although more than half of the 3rd Division he led had died in battle, as long as he could take down the enemy on the other side and break up their numbers, he would be meritorious. When he saw the unknown reinforcements, he was overjoyed. This was the straw that broke the camel's back.

In fact, according to the usual practice of a veteran, he would retreat if he could in such a large-scale battle. But after being discovered by both sides, things were different. The Shalorians thought that the enemy had reinforcements again and rushed towards them like cornered beasts. The jarl of the Faustian army was also happy to reduce his own losses and lead the enemy towards Locke's group. Foss, who was leading Locke's group, was either a hothead or a nobleman who had come down from the upper echelons to gain experience. He didn't know the cruelty of war at all. Instead, he rushed forward. Locke and the others had no choice but to follow suit.

Sure enough, the moment the two armies clashed, the situation became one-sided. On one side was Shalor's trump card, while on the other side was a makeshift unit. They had only known each other for less than a week, so they didn't dare to trust anyone else with their backs. Everyone fought for themselves and became the Shalorians' meat on the chopping board. As for Foss, he was the first one to collide with the Shalorian army. Impetus gave him greater strength, which also gave him a stronger reaction force. After a while, the head that flew over five metres into the air was his.

The commander-in-chief was killed, and the team of more than two hundred people was mowed down like wheat being reaped. Locke was in the centre of the team, and he saw the head of the temporary jarl fly into the air with his own eyes. He had been in the army for three years at that time, and his hands were stained with blood. The number of people he had killed was enough to form a ten-man squad. Previously, he was the one killing others, but now, it was their turn to kill him. Although he didn't take life and death seriously for a long time, he still couldn't remain calm in the face of death.

An ace troop was indeed an ace troop. Although they had been fighting for half a month, the combat power of Wolf was still not to be underestimated. The jarl of Lion's 3rd Division felt that it was about time. He waved his hand and led the cavalry beside him to charge forward.

Locke's current situation was not optimistic. Less than a hundred of the more than two hundred people had been killed by the Shalorians. The commander of Wolf was also a high-rank Knecht. He took the lead and led the less than three hundred men under his command to break up Locke's formation. Foss, a mid-rank Knecht, was pinned down by him and had his head chopped off.

At this time, the jarl of 3rd Division led more than seven hundred troops to surround the Shalorians. That's right, 3rd Division was using Locke's sudden appearance as bait. Kill, kill, kill!

"Kill, kill, kill!" Locke frantically waved his iron sword. This kind of close combat was not suitable for using a spear. He had already thrown his spear away when they started fighting. Locke knew that they were surrounded. He did not dare to hold back his strength, nor did he dare to stay in one place. He fought and retreated at the same time. He did not know where the hope of survival lay, he just needed to live longer than the others.

Even though they were surrounded, the temporarily formed team still unleashed their potential. More than a hundred people formed a circle and blocked the desperate attack of the Shalorians. At this time, Locke was close to the main battlefield between Wolf and Lion. This was also the outermost area of the battle.

Locke's strength could only be considered average among the temporarily put together team, and he might even be inferior. Although he didn't have strong strength, he had a good brain. He knew that it was useless to hide in the innermost area, and he would only die a little later. The Shalorians' eyes were bloodshot, and they didn't care about their injuries at all. This temporary team definitely couldn't resist them. If he wanted to live, he had to run to a place where there were more people on his side.

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