"Freckles!" someone shouted, "he's hurt!"

"Don't touch him!" Bryan roared, "I'll check on his injuries and you keep shooting." ”

He handed over his rifle to the recruit, who was in charge of loading, and bent over to the other man's side. The injured man was still conscious, and asked tremblingly, "Captain, I'm ...... Am I going to die?"

The short spear pierced him diagonally in the lower part of the chest, and it was not clear whether it had caused penetration, but seeing that his breathing was still smooth, it should not have hurt his lungs. During the cultural lesson, His Royal Highness briefly talked about the role of various organs in the human body and the emergency measures in case of injury, and the best way he could think of in such a situation was to stand still and wait until the battle was over for Miss Nanawa to treat him.

"Does it hurt?" asked Brian.

Freckles nodded with difficulty.

"Just because you feel pain means you won't die," the knight put his hand on his forehead, "You should know Miss Nanawa's abilities, right?"

"Hmm," Freckles grinned, "everybody's usually ...... I want to see her, so to speak...... I, I'll be able to see her too. ”

"That's right, so you have to hold on. ”

Blair returned to the firing window after speaking, and the recruit glanced back worriedly, "Don't you need to pull out the short spear?"

"Pulling it out will easily cause a lot of bleeding, and you will understand it when you learn this," he paused, "What we can do now is to crush the enemy as quickly as possible." ”

......

Standing on the high platform, Roland could clearly see the enemies pouring towards the town like a tidal wave.

With each row of bunkers, their speed slowed down considerably, and by the time they crossed the third row of bunkers, the enemy's belly was completely exposed to the crossfire of the shooters.

The effect of the echo was obvious, and although the line was stretched into a long strip, most of the people still ran down the avenue according to the witch's constant orders to "charge in a concentrated manner".

Every moment there are groups of people who fall, and they can't do anything about it. Faced with indestructible fortifications with swords, spears and guns, Tifeko's militia forces could only endure casualties and move on.

Three hundred meters behind the third row of bunkers were artillery positions - within this distance, the death zone covered by the shrapnel.

Lightning in the sky has changed the flag to a bright red.

The firing angles of the twenty guns were flattened, and flames and smoke were spewed out in front of them, and Roland roughly estimated that the most skilled guncrew could fire a shotgun in twenty seconds, and almost in about half a minute. At first glance, it may seem close to the rate of fire of the excellent guns of the American Civil War, but the latter's three-shot-per-minute performance was performed in solid fire, and much of the time was spent on gun repositioning and repeated aiming. There is no need to aim when firing shotguns, there is no need to wipe the chamber, and the rate of fire can be increased.

But for the enemy, this is already a terrifying rate of fire, the killing of the shotgun against unarmored targets is particularly amazing, almost every iron pellet can penetrate two or three people, although the pill can resist pain, but it cannot suppress fear. When watching the people around them being beaten into a sieve one by one, even the excitement and desire to kill could no longer suppress the instinctive fear of the living body, not to mention that they were not a hard-willed steel army in the first place, without pills, these people were just a group of civilians who were untrained and lacked actual combat experience. When half of them were lying on the way to the charge, the enemy began to appear as fugitives.

Fear spread like a plague, and with the first, soon the second, and the third, and the forward line completely stopped moving forward and began to turn around and retreat towards the rear. The artillery group again replaced solid shells and fired at the center of the road, while the musket team in the bunker never stopped firing.

Piles of corpses fell on the avenue.

......

Löven's anger cooled, and he began to feel scared.

More than twenty people first spotted the chaotic witch, dressed in a strange outfit, and almost blended in with the surrounding scenery as she lurked in the woods, and it was almost impossible for their own people to spot her if it weren't for the fact that they were following the large army and leading everyone closer to the middle of the road.

Even so, she caused Löven great trouble - he found that the witch's imitation voice was erratic and did not need to come out of her mouth, sometimes on the left, sometimes on the right, and even from the back of her head. The content is also varied, such as issuing orders in imitation of one's own accent, or a militiaman's painful cry for help.

But just as they wanted to surround and catch each other, the woman in white reappeared.

Löfven relived the shocking scene of Lehman Hoss being killed in front of him in the blink of an eye.

She held a silver-white "light crossbow" in her hand, and if it burst out with sparks and loud noises, one person would fall.

The surrounding pockets were torn apart in an instant, and everyone became frightened birds for a while. The armor couldn't resist it, the shield didn't work, and the iron-clad round shield that Löven held in his hand was broken in half, and the leaking holes in the iron sheet told him how powerful the opponent's weapon was. I am afraid that the only thing that can be compared to it is a two-handed heavy crossbow. If he hadn't subconsciously lowered his head to dodge, it is estimated that he would have turned into a corpse.

But the heavy crossbow can't be fired one after another!

The witch in white's ability to appear and disappear, combined with a terrifying weapon that doesn't need to be loaded, makes Löven realize that he has no chance of winning. Once this consciousness gets the upper hand, the anger is quickly extinguished as if it had met a cold wind.

"Take the pill and kill her when she shows up!"

As she shouted, Löven herself retreated, and when she focused her attention on the militiamen, she ran out of the woods.

It's safer to stay with the team, she will never dare to attack herself in the crowd!

The woods also grew strangely, with dense weeds almost knee-high and vines underneath that could lead to tripping if you weren't careful. Stumbling all the way out of the woods, Löven looked ahead, trying to join the army, but he was stunned by what he saw.

The militiamen, whose effects have not yet ended, are retreating...... No, it should be said that they are on the run. Those who ran slowly, or who had not yet reacted, were pushed to the ground and tragged mercilessly by those who came after them. When he charged, he was like a galloping horse, and when he fled, the surging crowd stirred up a cloud of dust, and he did not dare to step forward to stop it.

What the hell happened? Löven froze in disbelief that in such a short period of time, fifteen hundred men had been completely defeated? This was still under the condition of taking pills! Could it be that the prince's men were all monsters?

At this moment, the sound of stepping on the weeds behind him was heard, and he gritted his teeth, and stabbed his sword behind him - at the moment of life and death, this fast sword was a few points faster than before, like a bolt of lightning, and he was greeted by a dazzling fire. The blade of the sword was shattered by something, sparks flew everywhere, and then there was a tingling pain in the right hand holding the sword, and the touch of the fingertips disappeared in an instant.

When his gaze moved to his arm, Löven realized that half of his arm was missing, and the red-and-white muscles and bones were exposed, like a blooming snake flower. The woman in white walked towards him with a blank face, and he couldn't help but take two steps back before tripping and falling to the ground.

The witch had one foot on his shoulder, the cold weapon against his forehead, and from this angle, Löven saw the other man's face hidden under the hood.

Good...... Pretty.

That was his last thought before the gunshot went off. (To be continued.) )