stjorthotic Chapter 6 End of the Battle
Chapter 6 End of the Battle
After watching Korog run out of the tavern at lightning speed and slip away from the chaos with his superior agility, Gerns turned to look at Sylphy.
The tavern owner in front of me was clearly still in shock from the situation. She was slumped on the ground, her breasts revealing a hint of white flesh amidst her heaving breaths.
"Quick, find a place to hide."
However, Gerns did not focus his attention on Sylphy, but instead pushed her towards a less crowded area.
Sylphy quickly came to her senses and, disregarding her appearance, hurriedly ran into the storage room to hide.
"Hide in the storage room. I'll let you out after the battle is over."
As Gerns watched Sylphy slip into the storage room and nod slightly in response, he spoke while simultaneously closing the storage room door from the outside.
After doing all this, Gerns hurriedly ran out of the tavern.
The battle outside the tavern was still ongoing, and the situation was clearly chaotic to an indescribable degree.
The cries for help from civilians and the scattered shouts of soldiers were clearly not on the same level as the howls of goblins raiding in hordes, all mixed together in a chaotic mess of blood and carcasses.
"Captain! Come help me!"
Just as Gerns was wondering which side to help, he saw Enzo facing three goblins alone not far away.
"Hold on! Reinforcements are on their way."
As Gerns spoke, he rushed toward Enzo.
Uncle Regler witnessed the entire process of Gerns sending someone to request backup from a short distance away. A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes, and a barely perceptible smile appeared on his lips: "This kid is quite clever. I knew I hadn't misjudged him."
This farm boy, whom I had been leading for nearly three years, didn't have any outstanding qualities at first. Like many greenhorns who were new to the army, he imagined himself in the heroic epics sung by bards, thinking that his strength was enough to qualify him as a knight.
Then, harboring unrealistic fantasies, they plunged headlong into the army, fighting alongside it in battles, conquering cities and seizing territories.
He eventually died from an arrow wound during a siege battle and was buried in a burial pit filled with corpses.
The army always needs people to charge into battle. Those second-generation soldiers from military families will not start as ordinary soldiers like ordinary people, but some will be arranged by their families to go to the front line to assist and learn how to command troops.
At the same time, these second-generation military personnel will also learn their family's ancestral combat skills from a young age, and may even be supplemented with expensive medicines and equipment.
For example, Master Holmes is like that.
Although Uncle Reger had some complaints about this, he was a worldly man and knew that these were the results of other people's ancestors' hard work and the legacy passed down from generation to generation.
While there is a possibility of turning one's luck around through speculation, this possibility is extremely small in the military; one can only climb the ranks step by step by relying on one's own hard skills.
Moreover, the leadership skills this kid is currently displaying have already exceeded the scope expected of a squad leader.
"How about we wait a couple of days, when Baron Holmes calls a meeting of company commanders, and I report this kid's performance today on the agenda? If he's smart enough to offer some gifts and curry favor, then maybe his promotion won't be a problem."
As Regeler swiftly dispatched several goblins that tried to get close with his sword, he would occasionally glance at Gerns, who was not far away.
……
His chest heaved.
After several more goblins fell to his sword, Gerns slowly exhaled a breath of stale air.
His arm trembled slightly from the excessive force, and he felt the solid touch of the sword hilt in his palm.
Although Gerns, the transmigrator, is a newcomer, this body is not.
This body already possessed considerable combat experience, and in the half-month since it transmigrated, it had never stopped its tedious and monotonous training. Even the most basic sword techniques had long been ingrained in its instincts.
Perhaps because he had killed two goblins earlier, the fear of death in his heart had been somewhat dispelled.
Without much thought, Gerns tightened his grip on the sword hilt and charged toward the remaining goblin forces.
Charge up, aim, and swing the sword.
It wasn't until the goblin's screams and howls reached his ears that he realized this time the blade wasn't striking straw, but real flesh and blood.
Blood mixed with an unknown white liquid gradually spread on the stone pavement, and fragmented limbs were scattered on the ground.
The nausea and vomiting sensation that was stuck in his chest gradually subsided with each kill.
Looking around, the battle was still going on.
Even as they saw their companions fall one by one, and despite still having a numerical advantage, the goblins still charged forward, brandishing their clubs without hesitation.
As the goblins launched their relentless attack, Gerns noticed that his side only had two or three squads of ten men each. The fighters responsible for holding them off were gradually becoming exhausted and injured, and the number of civilians injured because they hadn't had time to escape was also gradually increasing.
"Damn it! How come there are so many goblins? If reinforcements don't arrive soon, we won't be able to hold out."
"Captain! Backup has arrived!"
Halfway through the battle, as Gerns cursed under his breath, he heard Korog's voice in his ear.
Looking back in the direction the sound came from, I saw Korog running towards me, waving his right arm.
More importantly, he was followed by hundreds of soldiers from the Kingdom of Corlington.
The remaining goblins stopped swinging their clubs the moment they saw a larger number of soldiers rushing towards them. After taking a few shaky steps back and exchanging glances, they quickly turned and fled the scene.
The battle came suddenly and ended just as quickly.
In less than ten minutes, the entire town returned to its former tranquility.
Only an extremely strong smell of blood remained in the air.
It must be said that the goblin raid was effective.
Before the battle even began, many innocent civilians had died in the goblin raid, and many soldiers who fought back also suffered injuries.
But soon after, they revealed their true nature as lowly monsters.
Their surprise attack was effective this time, but they gradually became disadvantaged when faced with timely reinforcements.
Without the advantage of teamwork and numbers, the goblins' fighting power plummeted, even though they still had weapons.
Enzo, the swordsman and shieldman in the squad, chased after the remaining goblins with his shield in one hand. After knocking several goblins to the ground, he chopped the fallen goblins in half with his axe in the other hand.
After watching the remaining goblins scatter and flee, Gerns glanced briefly at the messy ground.
Goblin corpses, along with the bodies of some civilians killed in the attack, were scattered haphazardly on the cobblestone road. The blood flowing all over the ground was a dark red, and some of it even showed signs of congealing, but was covered by fresh blood.
Of the seventy or eighty goblins in the group, about half died in the resistance of twenty or thirty people.
Gerns only remembered that he was so focused on killing that he didn't remember how many he had killed, nor could he count how many he had killed.
In addition to Enzo and his squad members, Uncle Regeler and his squad members were also fighting alongside him, all of them covered in blood.
"Good job, kid."
Uncle Regler walked up to Gerns and patted Gerns' arm with his right hand, which was already stained with black blood: "I'll definitely report your achievements today before the election meeting starts. Maybe it will even help you get more votes."
"Thank you very much, Uncle."