People in the Middle Ages, draw cards to get promoted

Chapter 416 Defense of Ella Port
Port Ella.

On the misty pier.

The Saracen fleet, flying the flag of the holy flame, was driving towards the shore at a very high speed, and the row of oars extending from both sides of the ship was urging, paddling at high speed under the urging of the captains.

Accompanied by the whistling sound of boulders piercing the air.

The boulder thrown from the Siegfried Tower, like Thor's Hammer in pagan mythology, crashed into a damaged trireme. This large ship, which can carry hundreds of people, probably The keel supporting the entire ship was hit, and the ribs of the ship were broken.

The whole ship let out a wailing sound of being overwhelmed, followed by two ends tilted up, and there was a tendency to sink.

The cannonballs continued.

From time to time, large ships were hit, and sawdust flew.

If the Siegfried Tower was not built next to the city wall, but at the location of the lighthouse in the port, with the terrifying firepower of this tower, at least half of the ships in the fleet would die in the sea if they wanted to dock.

The shells from the high tower made the fleet accelerate towards the shore, and some savage Saracen sailors didn't even intend to drive the ship back, so they just hit the beach head and rushed to the shore roaring.

The enemy raised their shields and began to line up the beach.

Muller, who was guarding the intersection, carefully observed the unknown enemy army through the gap in his visor.

Their composition is quite complicated, some are just wrapped in an Arab-style turban, and a piece of leather armor is wrapped under the wide robe;

In fact, this army includes many Berbers from Morocco, Turks from Asia Minor, and many Kuman and Turkmen mercenaries, some of whom are professional sailors, and a considerable number of them are mercenaries who are not good at water warfare. .

The leading officer led his personal guards, and with swords, urged a group of oarsmen who came up from the bottom of the cabin to the front of the team.

The oarsmen were generally slaves, including a considerable number of white slaves who were pilgrims who came from Europe, Ross slaves who were trafficked by the Cumans, and a small number of black slaves from Nubia.

Right now, armed with crude weapons, they were forced to rush to the front line.

"These bloody bastards!"

Andreas cursed angrily: "Archer, wait until the enemy is within 100 meters before shooting."

Orders were issued layer by layer, and the archers ambush on the top of the port building or in the building put their arrows where they could be used at any time. Many of these archers were Saracens who had converted to "righteous faith". Facing the so-called compatriots, he has no intention of holding back.

These enemies are robbers who want to rob them of their property; they are villains who want to destroy their hard-won happy life; they are enemies who want to occupy their fields and houses, rob their wives and daughters, and kill them.

The first oarsmen began to charge.

They held up crude shields, and some people's shields were even a crude ship plank without a handle, and they needed to hold their hands together in front of their bodies.

These people are pure cannon fodder.

Their faces are full of fear and despair. Due to years of hard work, their thin and rickety bodies obviously don't have much fighting power, but they can still destroy the traps prepared by the defenders of Port Ayla and fill up the temporarily dug trenches. , Between life and death, burst out the last courage.

"put!"

The soldiers defending the city held their bows and arrows.

The deadly rain of arrows quickly suppressed the oarsmen's charge momentum, but at this time, the enemy had already assembled on the beach, and there were as many as 2000 Saracens soldiers in black at a glance.

The number of oarsman slaves who serve as cannon fodder is still above this number.

Under the urging of their masters, the slaves only stayed in place for a moment, and then rushed up again holding their shields and braving the rain of arrows. From time to time, some people were shot to death by an arrow halfway, but the crude shields in their hands were still intact. It's working.

Even if they were shot in the hands and feet, they did not dare to stop their progress.

boom!
The polished boulder slammed into the intersection with a bang, killing several Saracen soldiers, and at the same time rolled down the high slope, rolling down all the way, which greatly frustrated the offensive of the enemy soldiers following the slaves.

Muller shouted: "Guard, bring me a shield and ten heavy javelins-Andreas, when I was young, was also a good player who was good at throwing javelins. A javelin dropped into the barrel."

He took a javelin from the guard, held it in his backhand, and hurled it viciously.

boom--

The javelin pierced the enemy's shield, and the sharp awl pierced into the arm of the enemy holding the shield.

The defenders who had been prepared for a long time also threw javelins one after another. Once these long-range weapons came into contact with the enemy, they would have no time to use them again, even if it seemed a bit wasteful to use them on these "cannon fodder".

But we are outnumbered.

The battle was finally bit by bit, and it was time for hand-to-hand combat.

Andreas was wearing well-maintained plate armor with patterns on the edges. He held up the spear with the double-headed eagle flag and roared: "Form the formation and meet the enemy."

"Huh!"

The soldiers at the forefront held up their shields and stood shoulder to shoulder. These well-trained town guards held a shield in their left hand and a spear in their right hand, raising it over their shoulders, adopting the combat method of the heavy infantry phalanx in the classical era.

These fighters, barely considered professional sergeants, were the most elite troops in Port Ayla in this battle, and they were placed on the front line of the battle.

Andreas was among them.

He took a javelin from Muller, pierced his whole body, and when the enemy was about to touch the line of defense, he threw it fiercely. This shot, with majestic force, cut through the air at the same time, It actually hit the head of a "supervisor team" accurately, passed through his eye socket, and nailed his head to the ground.

The arrow hit Andreas' helmet, but was sent flying with a click.

This is like the signal for the start, the sound of crackling metal, the muffled sound of arrows being nailed to the shield - the enemy can recognize Andreas, a knight in gorgeous clothes, as the commander of this battle at a glance, and many who are good at shooting Kuman and Turkic soldiers shot arrows at Andreas one after another.

A group of well-armored black-armored warriors immediately locked their target on Andreas.

Muller looked at the dark main force of the enemy in front of him, and swallowed subconsciously.

"Young man, can you hold on?"

Andreas' eye sockets were bloodshot, and the strong smell of blood on the battlefield made his heart, which had already been quiet, beat vigorously again.

"Of course, it's not that simple for them to kill me."

He raised the spear in his hand high, and with the other hand, he grabbed the flag in the hands of the attendants behind him, and stood in the most conspicuous place. The plate armor on his body was illuminated by the sun, like an angel descended from heaven.

"Heavenly Father protects us, Saint Gabriel protects us, the sacred tree protects us, all the patron saints on this land are watching us, we will be invincible in this battle!"

Andreas growled.

"Father above!"

"Kill these robbers!"

The soldiers also screamed strangely to express the fear in their hearts.

These recruits are not rich in combat experience. Even old Hassan, who has experienced many battles, has never experienced the feeling of two armies facing each other and standing on the front line of the battlefield. What they have experienced more often in the past is Skirmish.

In front.

The dark wave slammed into the defense line arranged in advance in Port Ella.

One of the slave oarsmen, yelling with terror in his face, threw his shield at Old Hassan, only to be knocked down easily by him.

Immediately afterwards, another black-armored warrior jumped out from behind the fallen enemy. He swung the sharp blade in his hand, trying to cut off Old Hassan's head, but was stabbed on the armor plate on his chest by the clansman beside him. , so that he took several steps back.

Old Hassan didn't care to take a breather, and immediately aimed at the head of the black-armored warrior, swung the flail for threshing wheat held in his deputy, and hammered it on the metal helmet of the black-armored warrior with a bang.

The shock made his head spin around for a while, his nostrils and mouth were bloodshot, and Old Hassan kicked him to the ground.

"Thank you."

"The matter of your son borrowing my armor is evened out!"

There was no time to catch my breath.

Later, more enemies came up.

Swords collided and boulders rolled down.

The port has become a huge meat grinder.

Old Hassan felt that his physical strength was plummeting, and he was fighting for life and death all the time. When he was young, he might be able to last for a quarter of an hour, but now he feels that his lungs are breathing like a blacksmith Used bellows.

The town guards mechanically poked out the spears in their hands, and the solid shield wall was like a reef on the shore, allowing the enemy's black waves to beat on it, smashing to pieces.

Gradually.

The town guards began to downsize, and the pressure on the frontline battlefield doubled.

"Reserve team!"

Andreas shouted orders.

Commands are passed down layer by layer.

Before Old Hassan could react, he felt someone grabbing him from behind, and he staggered back a few steps.

Immediately afterwards, one by one the militiamen recruited to defend the city began to take over the former and came to the line of defense.

Many of them have served in the army, but they are far from elite. If they want to go up, it will inevitably lead to heavy losses, but right now is not the time to care about these at all.

The enemy's offensive is too violent.

They don't seem to think about backing off at all.

It seemed that in the ocean behind, there was some kind of monster ten times more terrifying than the enemy in front of them. They would rather spill their blood on this beach than take a step back.

Old Hassan, who retreated, retreated with his clansmen. Brother Lazarus in a black priest's robe ran up to him and took out a medicine jar to clean his wound. Only then did he realize that the leather armor around his waist had been taken by someone. It was cut open, and blood and sweat dripped down the clothes.

An officer of the city guard came to them, with a hint of admiration in his tone: "Good fight, old guys."

Old Hassan nodded feebly as a response.

There were bloodstains on the officer's body as well, apparently he had just been withdrawn from the battlefield: "Hurry up and rest, maybe you will be on top later."

...

The fight lasted about an hour.

Blood stained the entire beach red.

Blood flowed down the drain.

The corpses left by the Saracens on the beach are already close to thousands, and the city guards have already lost more than a hundred people, and most of the enemy's losses were oarsmen who were used as cannon fodder. Under this narrow terrain, Not only did the combat effectiveness not decrease, but it began to increase.

At this time.

On the sea, in the dense mist.

A long horn sounded.

Immediately afterwards, the huge black ship cut through the waves, like a fog beast that suddenly broke into the real world, and plunged headlong into the ship docked on the shore.

It can be vaguely seen that an extremely huge giant narwhal collided with the black ship.

The large galley docked on the shore, such a huge ship, was smashed to pieces like a beach castle made of sand and gravel in an instant.

A man wearing a captain's cap, a black leather jacket fluttering in the wind, stood at the bow of the ship with his arms crossed.

The shattered ship, sawdust flying, and some even rubbed against his cheeks, but there was no way to leave the slightest trace on his body.

He laughed and raised the saber in his hand: "Hahaha, boys, crush these little mice that slipped away!"

Accompanied by bursts of shouts.

A terrifying army that seems to have returned from hell, just like this, dripping sea water, fighting out from the misty sea.

Yaroslav waved the giant ax in his hand, roaring, followed the two-meter-tall giant first mate and rushed to the front of the line. This son of the prince from the Ross region, at this time, had green fluorescent lights flashing on his body, and his face was full of blood. A bloodthirsty frantic smile.

Regardless of his own safety, he rushed directly into the crowd.

The enemy's weapon slashed at him, but there was not even a drop of blood shed from the wound, only the hideous rolled flesh.

"It's the dead pirates."

"Ghost ship, it's following!"

The Saracen soldiers were terrified, and their morale had visibly plummeted to the bottom.

Before they landed just now, they had already been attacked by the Disaster of the Sea. If not, they might have to prepare to retreat or land in another place when the battle damage exceeded a thousand.

(End of this chapter)