Chapter 16 Battle for the City Wall
Get up at dawn and plow the courtyard to sweep the holes.
A mound of nearly six meters high was piled outside the city wall. When the order to retreat was given, the prisoners who filled the city rolled and crawled out of the battlefield.
What separates the Qin En River is life and death. Red and white are filled with nightmare-like illusions. All mortals are destined to die, and life will be disillusioned.
Mengge galloped on his war horse with his whip raised, facing the three thousand slave warriors arrayed in front, and shouted loudly:
"Slaves, what I want to say to you now is not to ask you to be brave and good at fighting, live and run towards freedom, bring back three enemy heads for me, and cancel all the debts you owe me, warriors, world The gods will be with you."
The trumpeter blew the horn, and the slave warriors who stood silently roared, took steps, and rushed towards the city of Kohol. The entire front was like a surging wave, moving forward without fear of the rocky beach in front.
The archers on the city wall were ready to attack, and arrows fell like a shower, plunging into the dense ranks of slave warriors.
Without the protection of armor, countless screams broke out from the slave warriors. The slave at the front fell like wheat blown down by the strong wind, and was in a mess.
What's more important is that the slave warriors were frightened by the arrows. Their fierce energy was exhausted, their courage was lost, and they were suddenly at a loss.
The brave move forward, the hesitant stop, and the timid retreat.
At this moment, behind the slave warrior team, a group of Dothraki cavalry raised their arakh scimitars and roared towards the defeated army.
This was the first time the Dothraki cavalry had launched a charge since the beginning of the war. Amidst the flash of swords and rain of blood, they were warned not to stop.
The horn sounded, and the slave warriors were forced to attack Kohol City again with blood-red pupils and fighting spirit.
There were roars, screams, and blood splattering. Looking forward, there was blood and corpses everywhere.
The pale-faced affairs officer Ofo said feebly:
"Kaa, things don't seem to be ideal."
Meng Ge frowned subconsciously, his eyes were cold, and he tried hard to suppress the displeasure in his heart and said:
"When filling the city, the enemy did not have such a structure and organization. If the Qohor garrison did not have compassion and sympathy for the compatriots prisoners, or was hiding their strength, it could only mean that the enemy's commander had just arrived. Slaves have bad luck."
"Kaa..."
Before Ofer could continue to speak, he was interrupted by Mengge. He waved for the Dothraki cavalry to come over and take away the weak old man, and at the same time said:
"Officer, what you need most now is to rest. Don't worry. This is just a small loss. The gods are still on our side, and the victory is determined."
Any army that can survive one-third of its losses without collapse can be considered an elite force.
Slave warriors are different and cannot be regarded as an army. They have not undergone unified training, do not understand the language, do not know each other, and have no empathy. ̢̜̳̱͈̹͓͛͜ḩ̷̻̩͍̱̗͔̺̏̓͊̀͂̀ͅṵ̵̙̻͉̦͙̗̥̉̓̓͊̑̂̑x̸͍̘̳͂͊̂̊̀͊̕͘.̷̹̦̆̆̆c ̶͙͈͚̽̄̈̎̒͜ó̶̧̧̝̳̠͇͕̺̲̹̔̈́́՝͝m̷̗͓̽̂̌̋̋̌
Each slave only lives for himself and does not care about the life or death of others. This makes them more brave and ruthless, but also vulnerable.
The Gith slave struggled to get up, blood slowly oozing from his waist, and the wound was a cut from a sharp blade on his back.
Looking at the slave warriors trampling on each other in front of them, scrambling to climb up the city wall to die.
He stood there blankly, not knowing what to do for a moment, but there was a realization in his mind: these people were unreliable.
Behind the city wall, the Unsullied fought in a high-level, loose infantry phalanx. This fighting form allowed the warriors to be more flexible and responsive in using daggers, shields, and spears to carry out coordinated attacks. Not too vulnerable to flank attacks.
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Outside the city wall, the slaves who rushed to the top of the city were just killed by the enemy and pushed down the city wall. The slaves who followed rushed up crazily again. During this period, slaves kept falling and being trampled.
On the mound, slaves were piled up in layers, extending to the base of the city wall. A stream of blood slowly flowed under the corpses, making it a purgatory on earth.
Seeing the number of slave warriors crowding outside the city wall slowly decreasing, Meng Ge still took his time and had a clear mind to encourage the morale of the roaring warriors of a thousand Dothraki assembled in formation.
"Dothraki warriors, I could have led you back to the Dothraki Sea as a victor, but I am not a timid person. The people of Qohor tied the braids of the Dothraki ancestors on their long hair. On the spear, showing off their power, even planting the trees of the forest of Qohor on the grassland of the Dothraki, isn't this a shame? They sent arrogant messengers to my camp, wanting to offer me gold alone, but I don't care These, capture Qhor, and all the Dothraki will receive gold. This will be a memorial to your bravery. Whoever died, his death will be honorable, and his funeral will be grand. No doubt, This must be regarded as a supreme glory in the Notre Dame Mountain, and under the gaze of the sky, it must be extremely pious.”
"The great Khal."
"Kaa Mungo, Khal Mungo."
The breeze carried fanaticism and swept across the entire Dothraki camp in an instant, and their fierce eyes flashed with the color of hot hope.
Meng Ge raised a special long-handled giant scimitar, and the blood boiled in his tall and burly body.
"I will forge a golden crown with the gold of Qohor, and I will stick the heads of Qohor people on spears, and the forest of spears will be denser than the Forest of Qohor."
The khal was in front, followed by a thousand warriors, and the fanatical shouts and whistles of 70,000 Dothraki tribes followed closely behind. With high morale and abundant physical strength, they rushed forward like a mountain torrent, and crushed the city wall with an unstoppable momentum.
The tense and tired defenders on the city wall were immediately shocked by the overwhelming sound and the aggressive momentum. It was not until the commander roared that they came to their senses and drew their bows to shoot.
The messy arrows flew into the Dothraki army, and most of them were blocked by leather and wooden shields. Only a few warriors were hit by arrows.
Outside the wall, there were piles of corpses, almost spreading to the top of the city. An Unsullied who threw a spear had not had time to see if his spear had hit the target, when he saw a tall figure carrying a knife light slashing at him. His combat awareness made him react quickly and raise his round shield to defend, while another companion stepped forward and stabbed with a short sword to cooperate with the flanking attack.
"Crack"
As the shield broke, the giant scimitar slashed on the spiked helmet of the Unsullied, and blood spurted out like a fountain, bringing down a bloody storm. Another Unsullied's short sword pierced his skin, but failed to advance an inch.
Facing the Unsullied who were flanking and surrounding him, Mongol did not retreat but advanced. He waved his long-handled scimitar with his strong arms, exerted his waist and abdomen, and swept the sword horizontally.
Broken limbs and arms, blood splattered everywhere, tearing the Unsullied's formation apart, and the following Dothraki swarmed up.
Mungo was like a sharp arrow, charging forward, or like a hot blade piercing into cold butter. The calm and strict battle formation of the Unsullied seemed weak under his aggressive attack.
The sharp blade flashed across the enemy's chest like lightning, directly splitting the Unsullied in front of him into two.
However, the Unsullied's fearlessness in the face of battle was fully demonstrated at this time. They still gathered together to maintain their formation, launched attacks forward, and fought to the death.
Now, either kill all the Unsullied or find a commander who has control over them.
Unfortunately, the cautious garrison commander Salo Cote, when the Dothraki climbed the city wall, ordered the remaining Unsullied to defend to the death, and then immediately retreated to the inner city.