This morning, the eastern sky just turned white.
Stoney Sept There was a loud "bang" outside the medium-sized city gate--
The enemy's battering ram successfully broke open the already weak city gate, and a large number of troops headed by Crownlands soldiers poured into the town like a tide.
But as soon as they stepped through the streets, they noticed something was wrong.
The noisy towns in the past were deserted, and the doors and windows of every house on the street were closed. Only the breeze was blowing the fallen leaves, rolling back and forth on the stone road, revealing a strange silence.
"Be careful of ambush!"
The vanguard officer of the Crownlands army shouted sharply.
But before he finished speaking, the sound of bowstrings tightening suddenly came from the roofs on both sides.
The arrows shot down like a meteor shower, and the soldiers at the front fell to the ground. Some people were injured and died one after another, and the blood instantly dyed the stone road under their feet red.
"Attention! Archers are on the roofs on both sides!"
The military commanders of the Crownlands army exclaimed and ordered the soldiers to raise their shields for defense. They saw the wooden doors on both sides of the street suddenly pushed open. They could not tell whether they were from the Reach or Stormlands. The tall soldiers raised their heavy shields to form a shield wall and stepped out of the building in order.
The thick iron-clad Oak Shield brand slammed into them, forming an indestructible and insurmountable barrier.
This barrier is still squeezing inwards.
This time Crownlands's soldiers saw it clearly. There were three Castle Black painted on the shield. These were Peake Pikemen Corps from Dornish Marches.
The spearman behind the shield bearer began to exert force, thrust the twelve-foot spear forward from the gap in the shield wall, and then retracted it.
The tip of the spear flashed with cold light and pierced the enemy's chest. When it was pulled out, it brought out hot blood and the afterglow of life.
Continue to push out, pull back and stab again.
Simple movements, efficient killing, in such terrain, it seems that it never tires, always squeezing forward, pushing forward, and stabbing forward.
As cold as a clockwork machine.
"Kill the enemy!"
"Who can compete with me?
Dornish Marches people's war cries shook the streets.
The shield bearers in the front row advanced steadily, pushing the enemy out of the street. Horn Hill's archer regiment had already been divided into small groups. They first "rolled" the knight commanders and junior sergeants with superior equipment, and then massacred the ordinary soldiers who had become frightened.
Using pre-built fortifications, such as stone walls piled up at the corners of alleys, or window sills with partitions on houses, archers only need to lean out half of their body to launch an attack with a good angle of view, killing a life with one arrow.
The corpses of the Crownlands army soon piled up on both sides of the streets. The soldiers who were added later stepped on the corpses of their companions and tried to charge, but it was still difficult to break through the rebel army's defense line and arrow rain blockade.
The intensity of the street fighting was far beyond imagination.
On the slightly wider main street, in the narrower dark alleys, and in the inner rooms of the houses on the street, there are everywhere the shadows of swords, the muffled sound of the collision of shields, and the "chichi" sound of sharp blades piercing flesh.
Crownlands The screams of the soldiers were endless. They were killed by surprise.
Often when they have just dealt with the enemy in front of them, the rebel soldiers who are more familiar with the surrounding terrain than they are will circle behind them and launch a surprise attack. They can often defeat more with less and attack in a big way.
Even the rooftop has become a battlefield.
Finally, the sergeant major came to his senses and made a rational judgment, realizing that if the southerners' archers were not dealt with, they would all die here.
After sacrificing many soldiers, Crownlands Army soldiers finally climbed onto the roof and wanted to start a close combat with those damn archers.
The archers smiled calmly, and the Stormlands warriors from behind the roof shelter appeared one after another. They held hand axes, fighting swords and bucklers suitable for hand-to-hand combat, and easily received the visitors under the house.
There was only such a small area on the roof, and some of it had steep slopes. The Crownlands soldiers who had finally climbed up had not yet stood firm, and were quickly knocked to the ground by axes and swords, or kicked off the eaves.
After the battle, Stormlands warriors rose up. Occasionally, someone jumped directly from the roof, threw the enemies below to the ground, struggled with each other, and rolled them into a pile of corpses in the corner.
When he climbed out again, scarlet blood was flowing all over his body. If Westeros's technological level could test "DNA", it would be found that the blood came from more than a dozen different people.
The sun is gradually rising, Crownlands army's offensive is weakening.
In fact, once they enter the rhythm of street fighting, the Crownlands soldiers, who were originally more numerous, no longer have any advantage, and they can no longer be called the so-called "offensive side".
When tragic scenes of a large number of companions dying in front of their eyes continued to occur, many remaining soldiers began to shrink back and chose to retreat.
When they entered Stoney Sept, they naturally thought that they might encounter an ambush.
But according to the information they received, the opponent was just 10,000 tired soldiers who came all the way from the far south----
I didn't expect that the other party would be so "energized" as soon as they entered, and we quickly fell into such a meat grinder-like killing field.
Under this situation, the Crownlands soldiers couldn't stop retreating. Just when the Reach and Stormlands were about to pursue the victory, a red figure led his heavily armored guards and suddenly rushed out of the enemy's formation.
The two-handed sword in his hand was danced like a tiger, and several Stormlands soldiers had no time to react before they were struck to death by the big sword and fell to the ground.
"Take it back to me! You are not allowed to withdraw!"
"Red Hair" Jon roared like thunder and wore dark red heavy armor. He really looked like a unique combination of a lion and a vulture. He charged back and killed fiercely and quickly. His red armor was quickly covered with new blood.
This dust battle was fierce, and a terrible crack could be seen on the upper part of his helmet, but his eyes were still fierce afterward.
"They are just rats who hide their heads and show their tails. As many as they kill us, we will kill them in return. What are we afraid of? Push them back!"
He held a two-handed sword and took the lead in charging towards a shield wall.
The big sword struck the shield fiercely, making a "click" sound, avoiding the iron-wrapped area, and forcibly split a crack into the solid Oak Shield brand.
Seeing how brave the general was, the soldiers behind him plucked up their courage and followed him, trying to tear a gap in the shield wall.
Peake Soldiers behind the shield tried his best, gritted his teeth and withstood the pressure, and the spearman tried his best to thrust forward, but there was nothing he could do with Jon Clinton's high-quality heavy armor.
The red-haired Jon blocked the dangerous thrusts one by one, jumped up on the corpse of the Crownlands soldier, swept the swords with both hands, and flew away the helmets of the two shield bearers. This time, the blood not only spattered on his armor, but also spread all over his face.
With a flick of his chin, Jon Clinton observed that there were not many archers nearby, and many of them had been swept away by the guards. As long as they were blocked by this thick human "wall", they could reach the open square of Stoney Sept.
He roared angrily, took off the cracked helmet that was in the way, injured another Dornish Marches soldier, and led his guards straight forward.
Once there was a gap between the shields, they would stab it with their swords.
Suddenly, the casualties behind the wall rapidly expanded, and they were pushed backwards by the Crownlands army.
It has to be said that in a Westeros-style war, the presence of a strong general can really determine some important battle situations.
Pushing the shield wall all the way out to the alley on the other side, the combat effectiveness of the Crownlands soldiers was once again released.
In a more open area with no cover, although it is easy to be targeted by long-range archers, it is better than being unable to advance or retreat in a narrow alley, being called on one by one, and having no way to dodge at all.
Breaking through the shield wall, your eyes suddenly opened up.
Jon Clinton completely let go of his hands and feet, clashing left and right with his Griffin's Roost guards, constantly swinging his sword, taking away lives one by one, and became the spiritual pillar of the Crownlands army behind him.
Inspired by him, although fierce fighting was still taking place in every street and alley of Stoney Sept, there were also many Crownlands soldiers who had overcome the "tower defense" arrangement of the Reach and Stormlands, and gradually began to gather around him.
Blood flowed along the gaps between the stone pavements around the square, gathering into large and small blood pools.
Bodies on the roof continued to fall from time to time, hitting the ground beside the square or the pile of corpses beside the alley, making dull clatters.
Due to the persistence of the red-haired Jon, this war is obviously not over yet.
This red griffon from Griffin's Roost was fighting happily, and was about to ask the guards around him to shout, calling on the soldiers who rushed out to continue to move closer to them, so that they could regroup and join forces to continue fighting.
Continuous shaking came from the stone floor of the square.
"Red Hair" Jon's last opponent in the Harrenhal tournament, that familiar black figure seemed to have discovered that he was a "danger" and was leading a group of elite cavalry towards him.
The horses haven't arrived yet, the people haven't arrived yet, and there are still a bunch of people in the middle.
The man wearing the terrifying armor like a dream demon was already laughing wildly, "Hahahaha----red hair"? Give me a favor and let me mark three lines on your left cheek!"
Red Griffon: