At this moment, Darry Castle could only be described as weak.
When they had set out, they had numbered over six hundred, but after suffering losses in the siege and the withdrawal of the Dreadfort forces, fewer than three hundred soldiers in Darry Castle were still capable of fighting.
Having only three hundred men would have been bad enough, but they were also short on arrows and weapons. Worse still, the walls had not been fully repaired.
What was even worse was that The Mountain knew about that breach and immediately launched a fierce assault on its weakest point.
The Mountain stood there, casually knocking aside an arrow shot at him. Against the sturdy armor of the heavily armored troops, the sparse arrows from the battlements were as feeble as mosquito bites.
Moreover, The Mountain's direct assault on the castle placed another kind of pressure on them—
He had skipped the formalities of urging surrender and attacked outright, which meant he was confident he could take Darry Castle. And once Darry Castle fell, there would be a merciless slaughter.
The brothers Martin and Monde roared as they tried to halt The Mountain's advance.
But the fragile defensive line patched with rammed earth was breached almost in the blink of an eye. Those soldiers, seemingly made of iron, stormed into Darry Castle in an instant.
Watching the army pour in from every direction, Martin felt as if he could barely hold his sword.
"Martin! What do we do now?!" Monde had been hit by three arrows in the chest, though fortunately, his armor was thick enough.
He could still fight, but he was not in good condition.
"Find a way, find a way to get Lyman out! He cannot die here!" Martin said with a tense expression.
"There's no way! The