The Kislöw garrison in Voss Glade was no stranger to the barbarian army. Or rather, it was their instinct to fight the barbarians for years. When the Chaos Inferno Cannons landed on the fortress, dozens of soldiers were incinerated and a large hole was blasted through the wall, the alarm went off immediately. The Kislöw garrison responded immediately.
The commander of the garrison in Voss Glade was a Major General Korobkov, Ugor Poillé. He woke up from the explosion. When he got up from his bed and ran to the top of the wall, he saw dozens of Chaos Inferno Cannons falling from the sky like meteors. He immediately realized that something was wrong. "Oh no!"
"It seems that some people have made a serious and irreversible mistake in their estimation!"
"Alert! Alert! Get everyone up! "
"Get ready for battle! Get ready for battle!"
The urgent sound of the horn and alarm woke Artyom up from his deep sleep. He shuddered and woke up from his sleep. "What's wrong? Damn it! Oh my Wusun! "
"Tal's Fang! Get up, Artyom! The enemy is here! The Chaos bastards are here! "The camp was in a mess. The guards hurriedly put on their clothes and looked for their weapons.
Artyom had just woken up when he felt the cold air seeping into his clothes. The young Kislöw soldier almost blacked out. A strong sense of nausea filled his mouth and throat. His head was dizzy and he almost fell to the ground. Fortunately, someone reached out and pulled him up. "What's wrong, Artyom? Are you not feeling well?"
"I'm … I'm fine." The spearman knew the reason. The long period of malnutrition had weakened his body. Artyom gritted his teeth and stood up. He grabbed the vodka and put it into his arms. He took his breastplate and put it on. Then, he found his helmet and took his spear.
"Quick! Quick! "The officer shouted at the gate, signalling the soldiers to get up the wall.
The spearman climbed up the stairs to the top of the wall under the first rays of the morning sun. He looked through the battlements.
The horrifying scene made him shiver uncontrollably. He could only feel the cold air seeping into his body through his sleeves, collar, and ankles. Gradually, it covered his entire body.
Outside the wall was a sea of dark green.
Tens of thousands of Northka barbarians had already surrounded the fortress. The old Northka warriors walked at the very front, pushing the Nurgle Plague siege towers and siege chariots. The old warriors were very old, and the barbarians were already regarded as' useless trash '. Their only value now was to serve as meat shields and walk to their deaths.
Behind the old warriors of Northka were a dozen or so legions and over a hundred gangs of Northka marauders. Their ferocious faces were filled with a fanaticism for slaughter. How many of those low level Nurgle demons were there? At the very least, Artyom saw hundreds of mortals tortured by the plague and corrupted mutated beasts raising their pockmarked faces to await orders. Thousands of flags were raised high in the sky, each of them depicting the father of all kinds of plagues. Butcher knives were taken out of leather sheaths, hammers were unchained, and blunt swords were drawn from scabbards made of human skin.
In the distance, more than ten gigantic Nurgle Chaos Fiends were brandishing the clubs in their hands. After that, the three Chaos Giants were covered in pustules and ulcers blessed by Nurgle. As they advanced, slurry constantly dripped down. Dozens of Chaos Eggs advanced under the command of the Nosika people. There were no signs of them being humans.
In between them were numerous Plague Battle Mastiffs.
"Oh my god, Essun above!" Dozens of flames streaked across the sky. Artyom hurriedly hid behind the battlements. A Chaos Hell Cannon shell blasted the city wall. A three-meter-tall and two-meter-wide hole was blasted open on the fifteen-meter-tall city wall.
"Where are our cannons? What are they doing? " Artyom roared in fear and helplessness at his colleagues who were also holding spears. It was as if he couldn't get rid of the wavering in his heart if he didn't do so.
"The range of the cannons and mortars isn't that far!" Major General Korobkov commanded the defense. The major general stood at the top of the fortress and looked down at the city wall. "Enter your positions! Prepare for the enemy's attack. We have to hold on until Prague's reinforcements arrive! "
How many enemies were there? Thirty thousand? Fifty thousand? Or a hundred thousand? Artyom gripped the spear in his hand tightly. It was as if the spear was the only thing that could give him a sense of security. He took out a crossbow from behind him and began to load it with his feet.
This inferior crossbow made by the Empire was different from the exquisite crossbows made by the Nur Military Factory or the dwarves. This inferior crossbow only had a simple wooden handle. Moreover, it was very troublesome and laborious to reload. It was difficult to even shoot one arrow per minute. However, it could at least distract the pikemen and give them something to do.
The footsteps of Chaos were approaching quietly. Artyom could feel the heavy footsteps of boots. After the crossbows were loaded, the defenders saw a large number of neatly arranged torches spread out in all directions. They heard the ear-piercing sound of war horns and a slow lament praising the God of Decay.
Soon, the attack of Chaos began.
Dozens of Chaos cannons fired under the control of the dwarven engineers. Following the sound of the cannons were the roars and cheers of thousands of Northka warriors, the clanging of weapons on shields, and the chaotic beat of drums. The believers of Khorasan were the first to charge. The hordes of Khorasan warriors who believed in Khorasan rushed down the fortress walls in a frenzy. They roared madly, trying to make their voices heard by the great God of Blood.
At first, Major General Korobkov motioned for the defenders to hold their ground. He thought that this might be a test by the Army of Chaos. However, as the believers of Khorasan charged, the entire army of Chaos began to advance. The monsters even overtook the old and weak soldiers of Northka. Only then did the major general realize that this was not a test, but an all-out attack.
"Fire!"
"Fire!"
"Fire at will!"
The commander's roar reverberated throughout the fortress. On the western walls of Vosglade, hundreds of defenders and dozens of cannons opened fire at the same time. There were also dozens of guns from the Empire that fired at the enemy. The believers of Khorasan who charged at the front were mostly wearing the simplest of leather armor. Some of them did not even have any armor. In an instant, more than a hundred of them fell. Artyom instantly felt the power of mortals. He gripped his crossbow tightly and aimed at a Northka warrior who was only wearing underpants and holding two crudely made axes. He pulled the trigger.
However, the power and confidence brought by the cannons only lasted for a moment. The cries and screams of the dead on the walls were immediately drowned out by the endless stream of Khorasan warriors. Dozens of Northka warriors charged up from behind. They even ran over their own brethren and stepped on their incompetent brethren. They surged forward like a flood.
Come! Come! The children of Kislöw will never succumb to the darkness. Never! Artyom's heart was filled with a cold and hopeless rage. The pikemen loaded their crossbows and the commander ordered, "Fire at the nearest one! Prepare for melee! "
But it was too late. Or rather, there were too many of them. When the Northka Warriors reached the city walls, hundreds of bronze claws flew into the air. A few seconds later, the Northka Marauders were hanging on the ropes of the claws. The Northka Marauders quickly used their hands to pull themselves up the city walls.
Those who did not have claws took out their javelins and throwing axes to fight back. Of course, the success rate was low. However, whenever a guard was hit, thousands of cheers and praises for the God of Darkness would erupt from the bottom of the walls.
The defenders tried their best to resist the barbarians. The hundreds of brass claws were extremely hard and could not be broken by the crude swords or spears. Therefore, the defenders used spears to stab, boiling water to burn, and stones to smash. They did their best to stop the barbarians from climbing up the city wall.
A Chaos Inferno Cannon landed not far away. Flying rocks, chunks of flesh, and smoke splattered all over Artyom. The pikemen gripped their spears tightly and stabbed the already bent spear angrily at a Northka raider who was climbing up the wall. The sharp tip of the spear pierced through the raider's face, turning his frenzied and enraged expression into one of shock and disbelief. Blood splattered all over the wall and Artyom's face. "Go to hell! Bastard of Chaos! "
The crimson blood sent the pikemen into a frenzy. He tried to pull out his spear, but the poor workmanship caused the spear to break. He only managed to retrieve half of the wooden handle. Artyom roared in anger, as if complaining about the poor workmanship of the spear. He immediately noticed that three more claws had been fixed. The Northka warriors were quickly climbing up the walls.
The young pikemen no longer had a spear. He turned around to call for his companions.
However, what appeared in front of his eyes was the huge crater on the city wall that was blasted by the Chaos Hell Cannon, and five or six balls of melted ashes. One of the spearmen had half of his body blown up by the Chaos Hell Cannon, and only his upper body was left. His intestines were bleeding all over the ground. He struggled and breathed in pain. His finger that was burnt black by the Chaos Hell Cannon pointed at a place. "Brother, my spear … is over there."
After that, the soldier's head fell down. He never got up again.
Artyom felt his mouth go dry. He did not have time to grieve for the sacrifice of his compatriots. The pikeman was mad and furious. He grabbed his pike and stabbed it into the bricks of the city wall. He lifted the bricks up forcefully, and the two brass claws and all the barbarian warriors hanging on them fell down.
This small section of the wall was safe for the time being. The soldiers with spears were gasping for air. Soon, the reinforcements behind them arrived. A team of reserves, which consisted of only a dozen soldiers, rushed over with spears, swords, and shields in their hands. They were ready to welcome the next wave of attack from the army of Chaos.
Artyom subconsciously wanted to get a mouthful of water, but he had nothing now. The pikemen tried to observe the situation, and he immediately found that four siege towers and a large battering ram being pushed by the Chaos Trolls were approaching the city wall at a very slow but steady speed. The Nurgle believers were indeed not moving fast, but what they saw next was extremely despairing.
A cannon shell hit the rotten and fragile siege tower. A big hole was immediately blasted in the tower. The tower was on the verge of collapse. But then, the terrible Nurgle shaman, who was more than four meters tall, wearing a long robe and holding a skull staff in his hand, only needed to cast a spell. A thick and sticky green pus flowed out from the damaged part of the siege tower. It sealed the hole and kept the siege tower working quickly.
"For Essun, for Kislöw, for Katarín!"
Mrs. Kiesler would never back down. Under the situation of starvation and lack of weapons and water, under the personal command of Major General Korobkov, a suicide squad was formed. A dozen or so young men personally led grenades and explosive packs produced by the Empire. They swung down from the wall with ropes and used their own lives to blow up the mobile base under the siege towers. The four siege towers collapsed five meters away from the wall. Five meters, seven meters, and eight meters away from the wall.
"Ahhhhhh!" The Chaos army roared angrily. Especially the Nurgle champion, Festus, the good son of a kind father and the favorite shaman of the Nurgle shaman ordered the Chaos warriors to move forward.
Two Chaos giants continued to push the giant battering ram forward.
Boom! The giant battering ram hit the strong east gate of the fortress.
"Dong!" The iron chain behind the door twisted.
Boom! After dozens of hits, seeing that the gate was about to collapse, the ballista of the defenders finally hit the heart of the Chaos giant after dozens of attempts. The Chaos giant held its chest and fell down with a scream. The other Chaos giant retreated in fear and was killed by Festus.
Boom! The battle on the wall continued. Kislöw's guards fought until the last drop of blood. One person, hundreds of barbarian warriors jumped directly from the siege tower onto the wall. They were repelled by the defenders!
Three teams of heavily armored Chaos warriors climbed up the wall along the siege ladder but were still repelled!
In the end, dozens of Nurgle's Chosen Warriors climbed up the wall under the personal leadership of the Nurgle champion, Abo Zuer. They harvested hundreds of Mrs. Kiesler's heads as soon as they came up. The Nurgle champion announced his victory and his determination to give this fortress to Nurgle.
However, the descendants of the Bear God would never give up. The defenders used their last trump card, the sacred object of the Thunder God Thor of the Three Northern Gods. Now, this sacred object had lost its previous brilliance. A thunderbolt flew down from the sky and burned the flesh of the Nurgle champion, Abo Zuer and dozens of Chosen Warriors, blasting them down the wall.
But even the lightning of the Thunder God Thor couldn't completely kill the Nurgle champion and Chosen Warriors. They quickly got up. It seemed that the divine spell of the Thunder God didn't have enough power to kill them other than burning their flesh.
The Chaos Hell Cannon collapsed all three towers of the fortress. Even the dozens of cannons and a small number of musketeers inside were silent. The Chaos army tried to attack again, but Mrs. Kiesler's iron will made them organize another wave of counterattack. They once again drove the Chaos army down the wall at the cost of more than three hundred casualties!
The long battle, malnutrition, and lack of water made it almost impossible for Artyom to stand. Only a few guards were left on the wall. They threw the bodies of their compatriots down the wall as heavy objects and used them as rolling stones and logs.
Just like that, Kislöw's defenders repelled the Chaos army's attack again!
After fighting for nearly ten hours, Festus finally couldn't tolerate the clumsy failure of his army. The Nurgle champion signaled the Chosen Warriors to take out his secret weapon.
Dozens of large Nurgle jars were thrown into the wreckage of the fortress by the Chosen Warriors of Nurgle. Dark green clouds shrouded the entire fortress. At first, only a small number of defenders felt uncomfortable and coughed, but soon, a group of people fell. Those who succumbed to the evil infection of the clouds found that their skin had boils, their tongues had blisters, and their eyelids were sticky.
Artyom coughed in pain. As he coughed, he spat out chunks of his lungs and a large amount of blood. The pikeman leaned against the wall and stood up. He realized that the solid stone wall had become sticky.
The wall melted and a salty liquid dripped down, making a pungent sound.
"Boom!" Another Chaos Giant rushed over. This time, the gate of the stronghold finally collapsed.
"Retreat! Everyone! Retreat … Cough, cough, cough. Retreat into the main fortress! "
"Retreat!"
The remaining defenders of less than five hundred began to retreat under the command of the major general. They retreated into the fortress and continued to resist.
After the Nurgle champion Festus broke through the gate of the fortress, he thought that he had taken down the fortress.
However, Mrs. Kiesler soon told the northerners that they were very wrong.
The remaining five hundred defenders of Kislöw were infected with the Nurgle plague. They lacked weapons, ammunition, food, and any reinforcements. They relied on fierce street and alley battles to resist Festus in the four fortresses in the fortress.
Every house, every building, every street, every stronghold, Mrs. Kiesler used her life to resist Festus and his army. Because the streets were narrow and crowded, the Chaos army's advantage in numbers and giant beasts could not be fully utilized. Every hour, Mrs. Kiesler had to repel six to seven attacks from the Chaos army.
The defenders were already in despair. The fortress was already surrounded on all sides, and there were no messengers to send back information to Prague. However, the proud and stubborn Mrs. Kiesler decided to continue fighting.
The battle of Vos Glade Fortress lasted from 4: 30 a.m. on the first day until noon on the second day. This battle far exceeded the five-hour plan that the Nurgle champion had predicted.
However, no matter how tenacious the defenders of Kislöw were, at noon on the second day, when the last Kislöw soldiers kept coughing up blood, enduring the terrible pain, and using their willpower to overcome the problem of lack of water and hunger, they gathered in an inconspicuous Essun Church in the depths of the fortress. Everyone realized that the final moment had arrived.
Private First Class Artyom … No, he was now Acting Colonel Artyom. This spearman was dying. Behind him, more than 20 sick Kislöw defenders of Vos Glade Fortress were hiding in the church of the Bear God, preparing for their last moments.
Not far away, on the streets filled with corpses and billowing clouds of plague, countless Warriors of Chaos marched forward side by side. The streets were filled with the corpses of Kislöw defenders and barbarians. Flames and smoke burned in the ruins.
The Plague Mastiffs were greedily sniffing the scent. They were searching for any survivors.
All the corpses of Kislöw defenders had to be gathered. Doctor Festus wanted to use the flesh and blood of these corpses to make "Nurgle soap".
Acting Colonel Artyom gasped for air. He kept coughing up blood, and his mind was in a trance.
In the hallucination, he felt as if he had returned to his hometown. The beautiful birch forest, the snow was still falling, the birch tree was still engraved with his and her name, the pigeons were still flying in the sky, and the village was still peaceful.
"Cough cough cough …" Artyom suddenly remembered something. He reached into his pocket.
There was a glass bottle of vodka lying there.
He could not miss the last sip no matter what.
Artyom took out the glass bottle and struggled to open the cap. He drank the last mouthful of vodka. His mouth was filled with the smell of rust, but he still tasted the familiar taste.
The Acting Colonel stood up using the wall as support. Seeing him get up, all the soldiers tried to get up as well.
The Warriors of Chaos were getting closer and closer. Some of them had already noticed the dilapidated church.
The last battle cry of Kislöw resounded in the church. Under the leadership of Artyom, more than 20 soldiers were holding weapons, stools, shovels, table corners, and wooden sticks. They staggered towards the Army of Chaos from the north and launched their final attack.
"Ula!"
"Ula la la la!"
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