Chapter 56 He's Just a Soldier Trying to Survive

The increasingly excited Vederians had not completely lost their sanity yet. After the command of the Vederian king, they raised their ancestral large round shields and formed the iconic Vederian shield wall, steadily advancing towards the city.

Meanwhile, the crossbowmen of Saint Martin stood on the city walls, shooting with their walnut wood crossbows, albeit with little effect. 

At the same time, just as the crossbowmen revealed themselves, several large rocks flew through the sky and slammed hard against the city walls. Some of the Saint Martin crossbowmen hadn't even realized what was happening before being struck dead on the spot.

The large catapults demonstrated astonishing suppression power, posing a significant threat to the Saint Martin troops stationed on the walls.

As for Alexander, the warrior under King Hadser's command, he was currently hiding behind the city walls, chatting with Victor.

"Boss, shouldn't we join the fight up there?" Victor said, hearing the thunderous noise of the rocks hitting the walls.

Alexander replied solemnly, "What's there to fear? We're conserving our strength."

After a while, the thunderous noise on the city walls gradually diminished, replaced by the sounds of roars and clashing of metal.

Alexander drew his Executioner's Greatsword, glancing at Victor.

Victor understood instantly, drawing two short swords from his Forest Ranger set. Their battle was about to begin.

Their earlier banter was just to alleviate the tension before the fight, after all, on the other side of the wall were over a thousand Vederians, already close to madness.

When the two climbed onto the city wall, sure enough, the Vederians had begun to swarm up.

They not only had siege towers but also the most common siege ladders.

Just as Alexander and Victor reached the top of the wall, a siege ladder "clanged" against the wall, and the slowly opening gate turned into a bridge connecting the wall and the siege ladder. The siege ladder was already crowded with Vederian warriors, glaring fiercely at the Saint Martin soldiers on the wall.

"Don't let them up! Block them there!" The lord in charge of defending this section of the wall was someone unknown, but his subordinates were frankly too weak. It seemed there were hardly any high-level soldiers among them, with only five Saint Martin soldiers (Level 5 soldiers) present just for show.

Meanwhile, amidst the layers of protection provided by the distinctive Vederian large round shields, there were even two Royal Guards of Veder present.

The appearance of such elite warriors in a siege indicated that King Veder had indeed spared no expense. However, this level of warfare was always a gamble; one wrong move could lead to ruin.

The unknown lord also noticed the Vederian Royal Guards and shouted in astonishment, "Damn it! Where are the crossbowmen? Quickly take care of those two Vederian Royal Guards!"

However, the Vederians were already stepping onto the bridge connecting the two sides with their large shields held high. The Saint Martin infantry hurriedly rushed up, attempting to block the surging Vederians.

As the Vederians approached the city wall, they suddenly spread out, guarding the sides of the two Vederian Royal Guards. In the center, two tall figures emerged slowly. They gazed at the soldiers of Saint Martin without any emotion, as if they were looking at a group of pigs awaiting slaughter.

Even the top Saint Martin soldiers dared not meet their gaze.

To prevent the city wall from being breached, the five Saint Martin soldiers could only lead the other infantry to confront them. They roared angrily, using their fury to drive away the fear of death.

However, sometimes courage alone is not enough to bridge the gap in strength.

As soon as they engaged, the Vederian Royal Guards predictably cut down two Saint Martin soldiers in seconds!

The Saint Martin soldiers' iron-like round-top helmets were not enough to withstand the heavy battle axes of the Vederian Royal Guards.

Just as the Vederian Royal Guards were about to slaughter indiscriminately, a voice suddenly rang out, sounding particularly distinct in this battlefield where everyone was roaring in anger.

"Make way!"

Alexander shouted loudly, pushing aside the human wall formed by the Saint Martin infantry. The Saint Martin infantry behind the wall looked in surprise at the two figures pushing forward.

They were puzzled. Was someone eager to go to their death?

Perhaps there was also a bit of awe for the warriors. Whenever Alexander and Victor passed through, these Saint Martin soldiers always willingly made way for them.

Until there was no more Saint Martin soldier standing in front of Alexander, only fierce and crazed Vederians.

At this point, there was only one Saint Martin soldier left, and he was severely injured. Even his cloak had been torn off, which was his most proud possession.

In the Kingdom of Saint Martin, known for its cavalry, becoming a top infantryman step by step required enduring countless hardships and life-threatening situations. But in the merciless war machine, even the strongest life could become as fragile as a blank sheet of paper.

He still remembered the proud expression of his lord when he first put on the shoulder armor with a cloak, the proud look of his parents' worry, the admiring eyes of young girls, and the envious eyes of children in the village.

Some say he is a hero in war, but only he knows that he is just a soldier striving to survive in the midst of battle. He wanted to turn his head to look at his lord, that useless and incompetent lord of his family, who, though mediocre and incompetent, at least provided him with a place to stay and food to fill his stomach in these chaotic times. But he dared not, fearing that at the moment he turned his head, his head would leave his neck. So he could only tightly grip his single-handed sword and his tattered, reinforced fan-shaped shield. The heavy footsteps of the Veldt Royal Guards were already approaching, and he could even smell the bloody scent on their battle axes clearly. The last soldier of the Kingdom of Saint Martin raised his long sword calmly, launched a fearless charge, and prepared to meet the last moment of his life. "Get out of the way, move aside!" Suddenly, a strange but firm voice sounded from behind. At the same time, an irresistible force pulled him aside, and the soldier saw a scene that he would remember for the rest of his life. Two not very tall figures walked forward slowly, wearing strange armor he had never seen before. But for some reason, these two people exuded a strange confidence, a confidence that even infected him. He had seen this kind of temperament before—it was the unique quality found only in armies that never lost. "I'll take the one on the left. I hope you can take out the one on the right quickly, Victor." "Of course, my lord. I will do my best to fight for you!" Victor looked at a Veldt Royal Guard on the right, his eyes revealing a cruel gaze as if to play with prey. The Veldt Royal Guards opposite did not care about the enemies in front of them. They knew their position in the war—kill anyone who stands in their way. "Ahu!"