The fiefdom increases by 1 soldier in 1 second, and the empress kneels down and begs not to rebel

"Sir...I can't take it anymore."

On the northern battlefield, under a half-collapsed fortification, Lieutenant Colonel Percy sat down on the ground exhausted after firing all the bullets in his gun, groaning weakly. Beside him, bullets from the overturned ammunition box were scattered all over the ground, but he no longer had the energy to pick up the bullets and reload them.

"Get up, bastard!" Unlike Percy, Commander Mark was squatting on the ground, frantically picking up bullets, but the long period of fighting had frozen his exposed hands and the bullets kept falling from his hands.

"Bang bang bang!"

Mark finally grabbed a few bullets. The rocks nearby were hit by bullets and made a bang, but he didn't care.

The high-intensity combat throughout the night had paralyzed Mark's body and mind, so even though the bullet was shot next to him and danger was approaching, he still stood with his rifle upright, stuffed the bullet he had just picked up into the barrel, and repeated this mechanical and stiff action that had been continued for hundreds of times.

The bullet was finally stuffed in with the help of the long stick. He quickly opened the chamber and blew away the remaining ashes with his mouth puffed out. The ashes flew out in the narrow chamber. Mark was blinded by the ashes and choked on his throat. He coughed and wiped his eyes with his fingers.

However, as soon as the dirty fingers entered his eyes, he immediately felt a burning pain, and tears flowed from his eyes almost uncontrollably. Mark gritted his teeth, endured the pain and barely opened his misty eyes.

"Sir, they are coming..." At this time, Lieutenant Colonel Percy, who was still sitting on the ground, said this softly.

Mark didn't have time to turn his head to look at him, but quickly looked outside through the gap in the collapsed bunker.

A squad of enemy soldiers were coming towards us quickly with guns in hand. No, not just one squad, but many squads. Enemies could be seen in many places on all sides, and they were advancing quickly.

"You bastards!"

Mark was furious. He endured the pain in his arm and raised his gun, aiming at the advancing enemy soldier through the gap.

But before he could fire, three consecutive gunshots rang out beside him.

One and a half meters away, Percy, who was sitting behind the collapsed bunker, died from the bullet with his head tilted to one side without even a scream. From behind his tilted head, a large pool of blood dyed the rocks behind red. Next to him, countless corpses were already lying in a mess, and some of them were even covered with a thin layer of snow.

Mark didn't have time to grieve over the death of another companion. With his defense line almost completely breached, he just wanted to kill as many enemies as possible.

Mark didn't even have two seconds to aim before he pulled the trigger. There were so many enemies that he didn't even need to aim precisely.

After pulling the trigger, Mark did not hear the sound of the bullet being fired from the barrel. He pulled the trigger a few more times in a hurry, but still no bullet was fired.

"Damn it!" he yelled angrily, then remembered that he had not yet loaded new gunpowder into the chamber, so he hurriedly bent down to get gunpowder from the bag.

"Bang bang bang!"

There was another crisp three-shot burst. Mark, who was still getting gunpowder, leaned back and leaned heavily on the rock behind him. He stared at his chest with wide eyes. Blood slowly dyed his dirty military uniform red. Even a medal of honor hanging on his right chest was shattered.

With a "bang", the gun fell from his hand, and Mark fell to his knees, blood dripping from his open mouth. He looked absentmindedly at the medal fragments that fell in a pool of blood.

A gust of wind suddenly blew past him, followed by a "bang", and a man climbed over the rock and stepped on his back.

Mark was trampled to the ground, his face pressed against a pool of blood. The broken pieces of the medal pierced his cheek, adding to the pain in his body.

He turned his face, which was scratched by the medal, with difficulty, and in the gradually fading peripheral vision, he saw the enemy's face clearly at close range for the first time.

The enemy's face was indifferent, as if he had no expression at all. He showed neither joy of capturing the position, nor any unnecessary anger. His face was so calm that it seemed as if he was not fighting on the battlefield at all.

"Bastard..." Mark was still mumbling and wanted to curse when he was dying, but then a black gun barrel was pointed at his face.

-

"boom!"

The stone wall finally couldn't bear the weight of the continuous and accumulating bombardment and collapsed in an instant. The Gothic soldiers behind the wall were knocked over by the falling rocks and wailed miserably in the rubble. Some fallen rocks rolled down from the high slope and knocked down some Yan soldiers who were advancing.

However, this small resistance could not stop them at all. The Yan soldiers carrying light artillery on their shoulders aimed at the top enemy turret. The fuse was ignited with a hissing sound. In an instant, more than a dozen shells were fired from several directions.

The next moment, the artillery batteries on the south side of the pass were finally destroyed, leaving only two. In one of the artillery batteries, the dusty Colonel Wilkie looked at the raging war scene around him, feeling a sense of despair in his heart.

Many fortifications were blown up and many defense lines were controlled by the enemy. As far as the eye could see, there were corpses everywhere, and most of them were enemies. But despite this, there was still a steady stream of enemy troops rushing over. Up to this moment, the entire southern defense line was almost completely lost.

"Sir! General Pacter is killed. What should we do now?" In the trench connecting the artillery positions, a soldier covered in blood staggered towards Wilkie and shouted loudly.

After hearing that Commander Pact had also been killed, Wilkie felt like he had lost his parents and immediately lost all will to fight. Although Pact had said before that he would defend the position to the death, even if he died here, he was dead now and the defense line was about to collapse completely, so what was the point of holding on?

Finally, fear took over his heart, and Wilkie collapsed and shouted: "Retreat!"

After the order to retreat was issued, some of the remaining soldiers in the fortifications began to retreat immediately, while others continued to fight, because the order could not be conveyed to every place at this moment, and the defense line had been cut into pieces.

The source of the defeat can be traced back to half past six. At that moment, the enemy suddenly intensified its offensive, and soon afterwards, urgent news came from the front line that the rear was attacked. After that, after Pact urgently dispatched people back to assist in the defense, the front had to bear greater pressure, and the enemy's offensive became more and more fierce. In just half an hour, they broke through several lines of defense one after another.

Just after seven o'clock, the troops that were transferred back to the defense line returned to the defense line, but it was too late.

There had been several breaches in the defense line, and the enemy troops that had entered the interior were tearing the gaps wider and wider. The situation deteriorated further, and at this moment, just after 7:30, the entire line was almost collapsed.