The Sun and the Lion

No matter how bright the flame burns, it will eventually burn out.

The guards successfully broke into the last resisting building. When a wounded thug saw the guards breaking in, he wanted to light the last can of kerosene in the room. But the guards would not give him this chance. They stepped forward and stabbed the tip of the knife into his abdomen.

We have wiped out all the thugs in the slums. They either died or fled. They are no longer capable of causing chaos. The leading officer proudly boasted to the imperial envoy who came to inquire about the battle situation, but the imperial envoy only gave the Lord's order: The east gate is attacked, you lead troops to reinforce.

What about the military merits here? The statistics haven't been finished yet. The officer was a little dissatisfied.

The lord will not treat his loyal ministers badly.

After the officer led the soldiers out of the slum, the imperial envoy said in his heart: How much are the heads of a few mobs worth? They are crazy about money.

On the tower at the gate of the city, fifty people were lying carefully on the crenellations of the parapet, observing the avenue and the city in the distance.

The fire is out. The fifty leader said to himself. Then he stood up and looked outside the city. There was no sign of reinforcements.

I can only think of ways to delay it for a while.

The officer led the tired guards on the street. The team was in a mess, and he had to spend a lot of time to organize the team. In order to prevent being ambushed, he specially asked the army to march slowly through the streets in battle formation. For the tired soldiers, walking fully armed and nervous was not much of a rest.

When they approached the city gate, the guards who came only found dead bodies and blood stains on the ground. Their equipment and clothes had been stripped clean, as if they had been attacked by a group of beggars.

No, there seems to be something wrong. Although there was no evidence, the officer still had an ominous premonition.

Sir, could it be that those thugs saw that there was no hope of victory, so they just took away their equipment and ran away? The city gate is still wide open, maybe they ran out of the city.

The officer turned to look at his subordinates: You all think so?

There was no answer, and the officer only saw their tired expressions.

Hopefully so we can get some rest.

Seeing that the guards were still advancing, the fifty-man commander's hand on the handle of the knife became tighter and tighter. His plan to let the enemy think there was an ambush to delay time was ruined.

Under the blessing of the Lord, ten warriors who unite as one can withstand thousands of troops with different ambitions. Victory belongs to us. After muttering to himself, the fifty men stood up and began to give their remaining subordinates They arrange tasks.

The first is the comparison of the number of people. With fifty people here, the red heads who can continue fighting are only in their early twenties. As for the guards who came, he didn't know the number, but there were definitely more than his own. As for the quality, there is no need to elaborate on our side, and the other side does not look bad either. Everyone is wearing armor and should be a standing army or even a palace guard. As for the specific status, it is impossible to observe and know.

He can only formulate combat plans based on worst-case estimates.

There is only one goal: to ensure that the city gate is passable. Even if all of our own troops are killed, victory will be considered if reinforcements arrive before the city gate closes.

The fifty-man leader suddenly thought of the ballista on the top of the tower. The tower also had some reserves of stone bullets and kerosene.

Ten of you come with me and set up an ambush below. Ten of you go up and operate the catapults and fire arrows. You can also use crossbows.

After hastily explaining the mission, the two teams ran in opposite directions.

Several red heads who were responsible for operating the ballista arrived at the top of the tower as quickly as possible. Then they first reversed the direction of the ballista, and then together with the archers, they brought up the stone bullets and kerosene and piled them next to the ballista.

God bless you. After praying, the ballista fired the first stone bullet.

It was knocked crookedly, and a big hole was opened in the roof of a nearby house.

Fuck, damn, the thugs are ambushing ahead. The officer saw the whole process of the stone bullets flying towards him, but then hitting people's houses, and his mind was a little shaken. He raised his head and looked at the ballista that had turned its direction. Although this ballista could not change the inevitable losing situation, if it was operated properly, it could cause huge casualties to one's side.

As for the other supplies in the tower, he didn't know what was in them, so he simply ignored them.

If the team forms a tight formation like now and moves forward slowly, it will create opportunities for the opponent's ballistae. As long as a stone bullet falls on the head, it will cause a blow to the team. Casualties are secondary and key. Or psychologically.

But if the team is spread out, although it can effectively avoid long-range fire, it will not be able to effectively deal with ambush.

The officer only regretted that he was not a lord and could mobilize the entire city's military forces at will, so that he would not be trapped by this problem. But if he sends people back to ask for reinforcements, let alone how many rounds of stone bullets his team will take standing here, what will other colleagues think of him? What would the lord think of himself? If friendly troops join this battle, how will the battle merit be divided?

No matter, let's fight. The officer gritted his teeth, and then issued two somewhat contradictory orders: The entire army maintains formation and moves forward quickly.

However, this troop that passed through the slums could not execute his orders perfectly. The marching speed was faster than before, but the team became more and more uneven, and some soldiers fell behind.

There was a sound of a clay pot breaking, then flames burning and human screams, and the officer didn't look back.

Not bad. The captain on the tower looked at his results - the kerosene tank hit the back of the team, and the flames caught the bodies of several stragglers and quickly devoured them.

We can't adjust it any further. We have to find something to cushion it up. The red head who was responsible for adjusting the ballista delivered bad news.

Then find something to cushion it up! The tenth captain then used his sword to chop the wooden box containing the stone bullets into pieces. You guys use these wooden blocks to cushion it.

Captain Ten, that's it.

Try it with stone bullets first.

A stone bullet rushed straight towards the team, hitting the officer squarely and leaving a dent in the ground.

The guards and other subordinates on the side were horrified. They hurriedly surrounded the officer who fell on the ground and panicked.

My lord, hold on a little longer.

grown ups……

Up and down the tower, the red heads saw some confusion in the enemy team and realized that the fighter plane was coming. The fifty-man leader drew his sword and said, Brothers, now is a good time to kill the enemy! Then he was the first to rush out of the tower, and the red heads on the lower floor of the tower also rushed out with him.

The red heads on the top of the tower changed their weapons to crossbows and used arrows to increase the chaos of the team.

They are not thugs, they are Qizilbash! In the eyes of the guards, the red hats rushing over were like devils coming from hell. They even forgot about their numerical advantage.

A series of earth-shaking horse hoofbeats reached the ears of everyone near the city gate from far to near, from strong to weak.

This is……

The red heads on the top of the tower looked outside the city and saw a large plume of smoke and a large number of military flags approaching.

Brothers! Brothers! Our reinforcements are coming! The general will not abandon us! The excited red heads on the tower shouted this news that cheered up the friends and made the enemy lose their fighting spirit.

The guards ran towards the city without any care, while the fifty captains and the red heads could rest on the sides.

A centurion led his soldiers to the city gate first, and then asked: Where is your commander?

Supporting his tired body, the Fifty Chief stood up, looked at the red heads who were driving into the city, and walked towards the Centurion: I am the Fifty Chief, the officer of these brothers and sisters. Find Shuyuan www. zhaoshuyuan.com”

The centurion became interested in him: What is your name?

Kehobard, sir, from the Talish tribe.

Are you a tribal noble?

Yes.

Then why are you just a fifty-man leader... The centurion suddenly figured out the reason - after all, the Turkmen tribe is not a big family with a big business, such as the Golden Family and Timur Family, and the younger son may not get any resources.

Sir, let's talk about business. Kehobard changed the topic, and then told the centurion and other officers who arrived later about the general situation in the city.

Under the order of General Gorabelli, fifty-man commander Kehobard's troops continue to defend the city gate, while other troops go deep into the city and control the city. Fifty-man commander, the general asked you to go there. Just gave it to the officers After explaining the situation in the city, the herald came to deliver the order.

Kayhobard, you're a good young man, am I going to promote you to centurion, or do you want other rewards? Gaolaberi was very happy to meet the hero of the successful surprise attack.

General, I choose to become a centurion and continue to fight for Shah. Kehobard was silent for a while and replied.

Yes, you can go back now. You will be an official centurion in a few days.

yes.

The red heads who entered the city rushed into the castle area like a hot knife cutting butter, and the castle guards did not even have time to close the door.

At the gate of the city, the monk who was kneeling on the wooden pillar and about to be executed breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the red heads coming: I thought I was going to be martyred. Then he was helped up by the red heads and patted his robe. of dust, and watched the red heads pour into the castle.

After a while, the people lying on the wooden pillar turned into the current Shahrostam family of the Eshavind dynasty.