If You're Afraid of Death, Jump into the River

The rain gradually intensified. The cold wind from the north, mixed with increasingly dense raindrops, made it almost impossible to open one's eyes.

Perhaps after this north wind, winter would arrive.

The large raindrops, carried by the wind, struck the helmet with a crackling sound. The soaked rainwater seeped through the gaps in the chainmail, reaching the inner lining and bringing a chill to every part of the body.

But the wind and rain couldn't wash away the bloodstains on the warriors.

In the camp, Gatu corpses already littered the ground.

Several horses had also fallen, most of them victims of the greatswords.

The accumulated water on the ground had turned into a thick, muddy blood mixture, and the fresh red liquid was flowing down the gentle slope.

In the center of the camp, an unknown number of Gatu lay scattered, some even piled on top of each other.

They generally had only one wound, but it was in a fatal spot—the face, neck, heart, or between the legs...

These were all Li Ang's achievements. As long as he could quickly eliminate his opponent, he didn't care where he stabbed or kicked.

Li Ang was already drenched in blood, his grayish-blue chainmail completely turned a reddish-brown.

His masked helmet was darkened with blood, leaving only his eyes visible. This blood-soaked helmet made him look like a demon.

A tear had appeared on the chainmail over his left chest, revealing raw flesh. It was a sword wound.

In the chaos, no matter how skilled one was, it was hard to dodge blades and spears from all directions.

But as he swung his sword again, his movements were still as swift as lightning, though no sword light was visible.

However, this time, the blade only managed to tear through half of the opponent's protective neck chainmail with difficulty, leaving a gash on their throat.

The opponent didn't die but clutched their gushing throat and rolled on the ground—after cutting down more than a dozen people, the sword seemed to have become a bit dull.

Li Ang could also clearly feel the fatigue in his body. He wasn't a madman with infinite stamina; in fact, he was better at one-on-one duels.

He flicked a nomadic shield, which belonged to the enemy, with his toe and caught his breath.

A few meters to Li Ang's side stood Kloze, whose entire body was gleaming red. His polished plate armor had become extremely striking after being drenched in blood. His tall, sturdy build made him look even more like a demon than Li Ang.

The corpses around him looked gruesome, mostly describable as "chunks," with almost no intact bodies.

The only one that was relatively complete was the last cavalryman he had cut down.

The crude greatsword in his hand was completely deformed but still terrifying—the heavy greatsword, with a howling sound of breaking wind, horizontally cleaved a cavalryman at the waist. The greatsword became S-shaped, and the Gatu cavalryman became B-shaped.

The greatsword had been dulled into a mere iron block.

Behind the two stood the Charge Squad, lined up, but only eight of them remained, each dripping blood.

Enemy blood, or their own.

Behind the Charge Squad was the wooden fortification, on which a row of crossbowmen squatted, firing with all their might.

Beneath the fortification, Ansen had lowered his sword. He was providing battlefield first aid to two severely wounded Meitengheim Infantrymen.

And within the camp, there were no longer any enemies standing.

"Bispa! Bispa!"

After suffering at least fifty casualties, the enemy shouted and retreated, no longer pressing their charge—the camp was filled with corpses and debris, and the Gatu cavalry could only fight on foot.

And on foot, the big guys in this camp seemed to be incredibly formidable...

In the age of cold weapons, a quarter of casualties was enough to shatter the morale of most troops, but these Gatu did not.

They even maintained good obedience and composure.

This was the true reason why the Gatu cavalry was so terrifying.

They marched without discipline, lacked strategy, and had no formation when charging, looking like a mob—but they never feared death.

They had their own social structure and code of honor, and fearlessness in the face of death was a fundamental concept within that code.

Moreover, they had a reason to attack this camp—they had crossed the river here, and this camp was the way back to the grasslands!

After the Gatu in the front retreated dozens of meters, another centurion who had been patrolling the flank arrived at the front and shouted something loudly.

Then he drew his saber, cut his own face, and smeared the flowing blood on his forehead.

This self-mutilating act seemed contagious, as his subordinates also drew their sabers and made gashes on their own faces.

Each of their foreheads was smeared with bright red finger marks.

The Gatu warlord in the camp, whose mouth was gagged, saw this and made a "kaka kaka" sound from his throat, as if he were laughing.

Then, he tried to bring his neck to Sarah's sword blade.

But Sarah quickly retracted her sword, causing the warlord to fail in his suicide attempt.

Down the gentle slope.

After the collective self-mutilation and "reshaping" of everyone, a cry of "Wusa! Gatu!!" reignited the battlefield.

"Wusa! Gatu!!"

All the Gatu removed their bows and began to fire volleys into the wind and rain.

Their self-mutilation seemed to be a ritual, and the result of the ritual was that they no longer cared about the captured warlord!

"Fall back! Raise your shields!"

A soaked bowstring loses its elasticity, reducing arrow power and accuracy in the wind and rain. But with over a hundred archers firing simultaneously, precision isn't necessary; no one can withstand a volley of indiscriminate arrows.

The arrow shower descends like locusts amidst the falling rain.

Li Ang raises his nomadic round shield and retreats to the edge of the fortification. The crossbowmen do their best to return fire, but their crossbows are also struggling for accuracy in the wind and rain.

The Meitengheim's deficiency in using shields is now glaringly apparent.

Kloze's steel armor clangs, and his heavy plate armor blocks several arrows, but a bodkin arrow still pierces the seam of his shoulder. He rolls, finding a large wooden board to barely cover himself.

The other Meitengheim Infantry soldiers are in a similar desperate situation. Lacking shields, they are forced to take cover in the nearby barracks, their tents and wooden roofs offering temporary shelter.

The crossbowmen also come under the barrage of arrows.

Most of them have shields, but being on the fortification with nowhere to hide, the arrows flying in the wind and rain inflict considerable casualties.

Half hold their shields for cover while the other half return fire with their crossbows, but the significant disparity in numbers and firing speed makes it difficult for them to lift their heads.

Fortunately, most of them are from Long River Town and do not flee in the face of the Gatu.

After several volleys of arrows, three mercenary crossbowmen fall from the fortification, splashing into the river on the other side.

The Gatu once again send out over fifty men to charge on foot—the giants, skilled in infantry combat, are suppressed by the arrow storm. No one dares to show themselves in the camp, and as they charge into the camp, the arrow storm from the Gatu on the perimeter doesn't stop.

This is indiscriminate covering fire!

Li Ang picks up Ansen's sword and faces the enemy, shouting, "If you're afraid of death, you can jump into the river and escape. No one will blame you!"

He says this to the crossbowmen.

The cunning Lord's words actually have a hidden meaning... Perhaps some are indeed afraid and want to run, but who would admit it at this moment?

So, the words elicit a burst of laughter: "Afraid of what! Whoever runs is a chicken!"

This is the voice of the swimming expert.

After a round of laughter, the real battle begins.

The Gatu's fearless charge quickly fills the area in front of the camp.

This is indeed the chaotic melee Li Ang wanted, but it's not the scene he envisioned.

Kloze leads the Charge Squad in a ferocious fight, each warrior already bearing fresh, bloody wounds.

The crossbowmen have also jumped down from the fortification, drawing their infantry swords to defend Ansen and Sarah, engaging in close combat—they've run out of crossbow bolts.

Just as Li Ang, with arrows lodged in his thigh and shoulder, struggles to pierce a war rider, he hears a deep, clear sound from afar.

"Wuu... wuu... wuu..."

It's the sound of a horn.

Accompanying the horn are more muffled hoofbeats, a massive force approaching from the distance.