Rout

"Shields up!"

"Thrust!"

"Draw blades!"

On the small hill at the mouth of the valley, Samwell's voice had already grown somewhat hoarse.

Yet the expression on his face became increasingly relaxed.

By this point in the battle, not only had the recruits completed their transformation through baptism in blood, but Samwell had also gained firm confidence in the military theories he had developed. On a battlefield dominated by cold weapons, orderly formations, strict discipline, and organized command were the most powerful weapons.

The barbarian corpses carpeting nearly the entire slope before him were the best proof of this theory.

Samwell could already sense that the enemy's momentum was rapidly fading. Their assaults had lost much of their earlier force. Before long, the barbarians would likely no longer dare launch another charge at the hill.

Even without Todd Flowers flanking them from outside, Samwell was confident he could lead his recruits in holding the valley mouth.

Looking at the mass of barbarians packed into the valley passage, Samwell even had the leisure to think how wonderful it would be if he had some archers.

A few volleys into that crowd right now would surely shatter the barbarians' morale.

Of course, that was only wishful thinking.

A qualified archer was not so easily trained. Four months were certainly not enough, and archers were an exceptionally expensive type of soldier.

That would have to wait until the territory had grown stronger.

And cavalry was even more expensive...

"Kill!!!"

A roar like thunder exploding from level ground erupted beside him. Samwell suddenly came back to his senses and saw one of his shieldmen fly into the air like a kite with its string cut. After tumbling several times, he crashed heavily to the ground, his entire chest caved in as blood gushed endlessly from his mouth.

What was happening?

Samwell was horrified to discover that a powerfully built barbarian had torn through the shieldmen's line and charged up. Wielding a long saber, he was unstoppable, while the tiger fang necklace hanging across his chest glinted with a chilling bloody light.

"Stop him!"

Bang!

With a savage blow, Chika smashed the wooden shield before him to pieces once more. Amid the flying splinters, his blood-red eyes locked onto the man on the slope issuing orders.

"Die!"

Chika roared wildly and pounced at Samwell like a tiger descending the mountain.

In that split second, Samwell had no time to dodge. He could only grit his teeth and swing his sword with all his strength to parry.

Clang!

Amid a violent clash of steel, Samwell's sword flew from his hand, and his whole body was sent flying backward as if he had been struck by a truck.

The searing pain in his chest nearly robbed him of breath.

Fortunately, his mail had protected him from that strike. Otherwise, that terrifying barbarian would have split open his chest and belly!

Before Samwell could catch his breath, Chika was already laughing madly as he brought his saber down again.

The stench of blood rushing at him was like Death's breath, nearly making Samwell's heart burst with terror.

At the brink of life and death, he gave everything he had, scrambling sideways along the ground with both hands and feet like a great lizard.

Thud—

The steel saber slammed heavily into the ground. Flying mud and stones carved several bloody cuts across Samwell's face.

He had come within a hair's breadth of losing his head.

Samwell tried to struggle to his feet, but his limbs felt filled with lead. He could not move at all.

And Chika lunged at him again.

"Protect Lord Caesar!"

The soldiers finally reacted and blocked Chika's path.

Samwell hurriedly drew several breaths, only then realizing that his mouth was full of a sweet, bloody taste.

What a terrifying barbarian!

What overwhelming strength!

After all his recent hard training and the help of the Golden-Tailed Shrimp, his Strength had surpassed that of an ordinary person, reaching 1.32.

Yet before this terrifying barbarian, he was still utterly powerless!

Samwell secretly guessed that this barbarian's Strength might have reached 3, perhaps even higher!

"Second group, move up! Stabilize the line! Third group, surround that barbarian!"

After catching his breath, Samwell immediately gave the order.

This was the advantage of having reserves. The line that had just been breached was quickly stabilized again.

As for Chika, no matter how formidable he was, what could he do once surrounded by dozens of spear-and-shield soldiers?

Individual prowess had an extremely limited role in war.

Still, Samwell had to admit that things had been truly perilous just now.

That barbarian's personal strength and sense of timing were both terrifying. If he had successfully killed Samwell after charging into the formation, he might truly have turned the tide and saved the situation.

But unfortunately, he had fallen just short.

At that moment, Chika could only struggle left and right amid the encirclement of over a dozen spears, looking utterly wretched as several wounds quickly appeared on his body.

Like a trapped beast, Chika let out a wild roar. A cold glint flashed through his blood-red eyes as he suddenly hurled the steel saber in his hand at Samwell!

"Die!"

Fortunately, Samwell had been keeping watch on the man's movements. He immediately seized the wooden shield from the soldier beside him and raised it before himself.

Bang!

Carrying tremendous momentum, the long saber punched a hole through the wooden shield, but Samwell's mail still stopped it.

The immense force drove Samwell back three steps, and he fell heavily onto the ground.

Swallowing the blood that rose to his throat, Samwell struggled to his feet again and roared:

"Kill him!"

"Kill!"

Seeing that the barbarian had lost his weapon, the soldiers swarmed forward.

"Awoo—"

Chika roared madly and, as if insane, prepared to charge toward Samwell once again.

The soldiers hurriedly closed ranks, ready to defend their lord to the death.

But unexpectedly, Chika abruptly turned and charged back toward the outside of the valley.

This barbarian had always been ferocious and relentless, charging straight ahead without hesitation. His sudden trick caught the soldiers completely off guard.

In their moment of distraction, Chika truly broke out of the encirclement.

"Don't pursue him! Hold the position!" Samwell hurriedly stopped the soldiers who had tried to chase after him.

Though he wanted nothing more than to cut that barbarian into a thousand pieces, he knew the bigger picture came first.

Besides, that barbarian was already seriously wounded and posed no further threat.

Although Chika's rampage had thrown the defenders into a brief frenzy, it proved that this attack was merely a final flare of life.

Afterward, the barbarians could no longer pose any threat to the line on the small hill.

Moreover, Samwell could already hear sounds of fighting coming from outside the valley.

Clearly, Todd had finally led his troops back.

Cheers immediately erupted from the camp, and the soldiers' morale rose even higher.

The barbarians on the other side, however, grew increasingly dispirited.

Though they organized several more attacks, the position on that not particularly tall hill stood like a city wall forged from steel, utterly unbreakable.

Their path ahead was blocked, and their rear was under attack. Unable to advance or retreat, the barbarians trapped in the valley finally began to grow agitated, then panicked.

At that moment, the first ray of dawn finally pierced the deep darkness, illuminating the fiercely contested valley and revealing this hellish scene to all—

From the valley mouth to the pioneers' defensive line, barbarian corpses densely covered the slope stretching over a hundred feet. Among those heaps of bodies were barbarians who had not yet breathed their last, their mouths releasing heart-rending wails as they begged only for release.

Flowing blood dyed the earth dark red. The thick stench of blood filled the air, nearly suffocating everyone.

This apocalyptic sight became the last straw that broke the camel's back. The barbarian army finally collapsed!

They could no longer organize a proper attack. Some ran back like madmen, some clutched their heads and wept aloud, while others lay motionless on the ground, as if they had been frightened senseless...

Samwell seized the opportunity to shout at the barbarians:

"Drop your weapons! Surrender, and you will not be killed!"

The soldiers on the slope also began pushing the line forward, shouting as they advanced:

"Drop your weapons! Surrender, and you will not be killed!"

"Drop your weapons! Surrender, and you will not be killed!"