Shield-Cart Offensive
Just as Hermod clenched his fist, preparing to order the troops waiting in the rear to move closer and be ready to unleash fresh troops to expand the gains as soon as the city walls were breached!
A sudden change has occurred!
The monstrous army outside the city, surging like a tidal wave and frantically attacking the city walls, suddenly froze in all directions! It was as if countless marionettes had their strings cut at the same instant!
Their ferocious roars abruptly ceased, their climbing movements halted, and even the monsters being slaughtered by the guards seemed to lose their support, becoming bewildered and helpless.
The battlefield, which was filled with the sounds of battle just a moment ago, suddenly fell into an eerie silence and stillness!
Hermod was shocked. He abruptly lowered his binoculars and turned incredulously to the Sorcerer Thor, who had been standing motionless beside him. "What's going on? Sorcerer Thor! Why have they stopped? Quick! Keep attacking! The Goldspur ' defenses are about to crumble!"
The already pale face of the Sorcerer Thor turned even more ashen, and fine beads of sweat seeped from his forehead beneath his wide hood. His thin fingers trembled slightly, and his breathing became rapid and weak.
He slowly turned his head, his once emotionless gray eyes now appearing somewhat unfocused, his hoarse voice carrying an undisguised weariness and weakness:
"Manipulating these creations requires limitless power...and my spirit is nearly exhausted," he gasped for breath. "I can't sustain this any longer, or I'll be dead before the Goldspur ' defenses are breached."
Having said that, without waiting for Hermod's response, the Sorcerer Thor, as if using his last bit of strength, raised his trembling hand and made a strange gesture.
Instantly, the monstrous army that had been standing frozen outside the city began to retreat in a chaotic and disorderly manner, like the receding tide. They no longer paid attention to the attacks of the defenders on the city wall, but instinctively moved away from the city wall, leaving behind a mess of corpses and dumbfounded soldiers from both sides.
"No! Come back! You damned scum! Come back!" Hermod watched helplessly as victory slipped through his fingers, trembling with rage. He growled at Thor, but there was nothing he could do.
He slammed his fist into a wooden pillar of the command tent, his eyes blazing as he glared at the Carnford City, where the previously crumbling defenses seemed to have temporarily stabilized due to the monsters' sudden retreat.
All his efforts were in vain! He was almost overwhelmed by immense disappointment and anger.
He could only grit his teeth and watch as the monster army retreated in disarray like a swarm of ants, their first probing attack ending in a dismal failure.
After a brief silence atop the city walls, a deafening roar of joy erupted as survivors of the catastrophe raged!
"We won!"
"The monster has retreated!"
"Long live Carnford! Long live the Lord!"
Many new recruits, experiencing such a brutal battle for the first time, were moved to tears as they looked at the terrifying mountain of corpses and sea of blood below the city, and then at their comrades who still stood by them and the intact city walls. They waved their weapons and shouted with all their might!
This victory greatly boosted their morale and confidence, making them truly believe that they were capable of defending their homeland!
Karl stood amidst the cheering soldiers, his face grave.
He clearly saw that the Musketeers were consuming a lot of ammunition, had used a lot of Rolling Stone and Logs, and that the soldiers were nearing their physical limits.
This was merely the first tentative attack.
The real test is probably yet to come.
Although the Sorcerer Thor was temporarily unable to command the monster army due to exhaustion, Hermod knew very well that the initiative on the battlefield was fleeting.
He absolutely could not allow the defenders of Carnford any respite or chance to repair their fortifications; they had to be overwhelmed by a relentless offensive! He decided to employ the most brutal, yet most effective, attrition tactics.
It was nearly noon, the sun was high in the sky, and the war-torn land became even hotter.
Hermod ordered his Auxiliary Troop to immediately move out and cut down logs in the woods behind the city.
Soon, large quantities of logs were continuously transported back to the front lines and piled up.
These will be the materials used to make the Shield-carts.
Meanwhile, Hermod ordered his most elite Sauron Combatant to rest on the spot, cook their own meals, eat their fill, and conserve their energy.
He did not intend to send these valuable core combat forces to charge through the still-solid city wall at this time.
His gaze, like that of a hawk, fell upon the area in the corner of the camp where prisoners were being held.
There, the place was packed with countless Plantagenets, ragged and trembling under the guard of the Sauron soldier, their faces Goldspur.
These are civilians and fleeing soldiers captured when other Northern Territory settler territories around Carnford were breached.
The defenses of those territories were far inferior to those of Carnford, and the Lord were far less tenacious and skilled in battle than Karl von Schmidt. Their fortresses and villages crumbled almost instantly, allowing the Sauron to capture a large number of people.
At this moment, in Hermod's eyes, these living people were no longer life, but merely... "consumables" that could be used to consume large quantities of arrows, rolling stones, Fire oil, and the soldiers' stamina during the siege.
He will drive these slaves forward, leading the charge, using their flesh and blood to pave the way for the real attack by the elite main force.
He summoned the officer in charge of guarding them, pointed at the group of prisoners, and said in a completely calm tone, "Divide them into several groups, give them some of the simplest wooden sticks or just let them go empty-handed. In the afternoon, drive them to be the first to attack the city walls."
The officer hesitated for a moment, then said tentatively, "Sir, they... they have almost no fighting ability..."
Hermod's lips curled into a cruel smile, "That's exactly what we want—they're incapable of fighting. Their mission isn't to attack the city, it's to die, to deplete the defenders' defensive supplies, to make those Broomflower soldiers' hands go numb from hacking! Execute orders!"
The officer accepted the order and left.
Hermod raised his binoculars again and looked toward the Carnford City.
He could almost see the pain, hesitation, and struggle that would appear on the faces of the defenders when they saw that the ones forced to attack the city were their own compatriots.
Whether they shot ruthlessly or hesitated because of it, it was a victory for Hermod.
Listening to the plan, the Sorcerer Thor's lips, hidden beneath his hood, curled into a strange smile. In a hoarse voice, he said to Hermod, "Commander Hermod, do you think I'm cruel and heartless for manipulating the undead and sacrificing lives?"
"But in my opinion, your strategy of using living people to fill trenches and brave a hail of arrows... well, it's probably no less ingenious than mine."
Upon hearing this, Hermod's facial muscles twitched slightly, but he did not refute it. He simply gave a cold snort, which was tantamount to acknowledging the cruelty of using any means necessary to achieve victory.