Night Raid Begins

At one o'clock in the morning, the night sky over the Northern Territory was shrouded in thick clouds, with only sparse starlight barely penetrating to cast a faint glow.

However, at the foot of Carnford Mountain, in the forward construction area of Sauron camp, the area was a scene of firelight and bustling activity, defying the silence of the night.

Tens of thousands of driven slaves, under the threat of whips and swords, toiled tirelessly like worker ants around the massive arrow tower skeleton.

Huge braziers and torches were placed all around, illuminating the construction site as bright as day, and also reflecting the distorted and numb faces of the slaves, contorted with extreme exhaustion and fear.

New logs were constantly being brought in, and the slaves, chanting slogans, painstakingly lifted the heavy timbers to the ever-growing tower using crude pulley systems and ropes.

The scaffolding was raised layer by layer, and the silhouette of the arrow tower stretched towards the sky like a ferocious giant skeleton in the night.

Any slave who was even slightly slow or fell due to exhaustion would immediately be met with the merciless swords of the overseers. Screams would ring out from time to time, and the corpses would be dragged aside at will, their heads chopped off and hung on tall wooden poles as a warning to all those still working.

The air was filled with the stench of sweat, blood, and the raw smell of wood.

An attempt was made to disrupt the project from the Carnford City. The Six-pound Cannon fired once after nightfall, raising the muzzle to its maximum angle of fire. The shell whistled through the night sky, but the distance was too great, and it ultimately landed helplessly on the open ground far in front of the arrow tower, kicking up a cloud of dirt, but it did not have any real impact on the project.

After that, the city walls fell silent, seemingly acknowledging that shelling at that distance was futile.

This sign greatly boosted the morale of the Sauron soldier and officers overseeing the construction. They brandished their whips and shouted even more enthusiastically, "Look! The Broomflower barbarians are helpless! Keep up the good work! Once the tower is built, their deaths will be imminent!" It was as if the fall of Carnford was just around the corner.

To guard against a possible night raid by the defenders, the Sauron also made meticulous arrangements.

Outside the effective range of their muskets, they constructed a tight defensive line along the tunnel exit using trenches, Caltrops, and sturdy fortifications, completely blocking the passage down the mountain from the front.

Behind the defensive line, sentries stood guard, vigilantly watching the darkness.

From time to time, Sauron soldier would throw lit torches vigorously into the area near the entrance of the tunnel, using the brief light to patrol for any unusual activity.

In stark contrast to the bustling activity at Sauron's camp, the garrison at Carnford was deathly silent.

Behind the fortifications on the hillside and the crenellations of the inner city wall, only the figures of vigilant sentries could be vaguely seen, and no loud noises could be heard.

Occasionally, a sharp, solitary musket shot would pierce the darkness from one of the firing ports, the bullet flying off into the distance. Before the Sauron sentries could react and search for the source, silence would return.

This kind of neurotic sniping is more like psychological harassment than an effective tactical strike.

The tunnel, this double-edged sword that once caused rivers of blood to flow among the Sauron, is now revealing its disadvantageous side to the defenders.

Once the attacking side makes up its mind and deploys a large force and fortifications to completely blockade the area, the defending forces are trapped on the mountain and lose the ability to launch attacks, interfere with, or disrupt the enemy's operations.

They could only watch helplessly as the enemy calmly and methodically constructed siege weapons right under their noses, weapons powerful enough to threaten their very survival.

Purely passive defense is a sure path to death in any war.

At the same time, on the cliff behind Carnford Castle, the wind was biting cold, and it was almost impossible to see one's hand in front of one's face.

Far from the hustle and bustle of the main battlefield, only the sound of the wind and the distant, faint noise of the Sauron camp could be heard.

Karl himself was waiting there; before him stood five tall figures that seemed to blend into the darkness.

These were the warriors Brendan had carefully selected to carry out this top-secret night raid.

The team was led by Master Andrei, a Third-Order Knight and a veteran of Carnford. He had extensive combat experience and superb personal martial arts skills, making him the most suitable person to lead the team.

Behind Andre were four elite soldiers, handpicked from among the best in their respective units. They were all familiar faces: Roderick, Oliver, Mark, and the officer Roland, a Second-Order Knight.

To ensure the secrecy and agility of the operation to the greatest extent possible, all five of them traveled light.

He wore only black leather armor that barely reflected light, and his main ranged weapon was a flintlock carbine mounted on his chest.

This was a product of deliberately shortening the barrel of a standard Flintlock Rifle. Although its effective range was only about fifteen paces, it was lighter and extremely deadly in close-quarters combat at night.

Each person had two Molotov cocktail hanging from their waists, modeled after Karl's improved version of the "Molotov Cocktail." The mouths of the bottles were plugged with Cloth Strip of cloth soaked in grease. When used, they were lit and thrown, instantly creating a sea of fire.

In addition, Roderick carried a 40-kilogram Gunpowder pack for detonation.

Except for Roderick, everyone else carried an Armed Sword suitable for slashing and thrusting in confined spaces, except for Master Andrei, who still used his usual, well-maintained longsword.

Karl walked up to the five men one by one. In the darkness, he couldn't see their faces, but he could feel the suppressed yet burning fighting spirit and determination emanating from them.

He extended his right hand and shook hands firmly with everyone, the strength in his palm conveying a silent trust and heavy responsibility.

Finally, he took a step back, stood at attention, and gave the suicide squad an extremely solemn military salute.

He finally stopped in front of Master Andrei, his voice low and clear. "Master Andrei, the mission is important, but the safe return of the five of you is even more important. If things become unmanageable, retreat immediately, preserve your strength, and we will find another way."

Andre nodded slightly, his gaze unwavering in the shadows beneath his hood. "Rest assured, my Lord, we will not fail in our mission and will surely return safely."

Without saying another word, Andre turned around first and walked towards the makeshift lifting platform on the edge of the cliff, which was a modified mining pulley.

Two engineers were already waiting there, inspecting the ropes and winch.

Andrei stepped steadily onto the wooden platform, and the engineer slowly released the brakes. As the rope slid, he silently descended into the dark abyss below.

Immediately afterwards, Roland, Roderick... the five of them silently and quickly stepped onto the platform, and were pulled into the night below the cliff by a pulley.

Karl stood on the edge of the cliff, the cold wind blowing his cloak. He could only hear the faint sound of ropes rubbing together and his own heart pounding faster.

He watched as the last team member, Mark, was completely swallowed by the darkness, silently praying in his heart.

This operation is extremely risky; if exposed, the five will face utter ruin.

But for Carnford's survival, he had to take this gamble.

Below the cliff, all was silent, as if nothing had ever happened.