Mount and Blade System: Start from Pioneer Lords

Four or five miles from Broken City, on a small hill beside Shadow Forest, flames soared into the sky, and the sounds of battle never ceased.

Looking out, the dense, seemingly endless shadows surged like a tide, fiercely attacking a team on the hill.

Only by carefully observing through the firelight could one distinguish that these shadows were various races of wilderness people: lizardmen, pig-men, goblins, gnolls…

Unexpectedly, such a massive band of wilderness bandits was unable to conquer this gently sloped hill.

“Master Fugin, please provide another magic support to the right flank!”

Skyward slashed his sword, felling a goblin that, taking advantage of its height, had crawled between a minotaur's legs, trying to stab his lower body with a pitchfork. After looking around, he immediately roared.

“I’m sorry, this old man really doesn’t have any more spells to cast!”

Fugin, surrounded by layers of Thorns Legion soldiers, shouted with the last of his strength. Regardless of whether Skyward in front heard him, he gasped for breath, his face pale, and the hand holding his magic staff trembled.

He looked around, his face as desolate as a hazelnut beaten to the ground by hail and buried in the snow.

Of the original one thousand and sixty warriors, only five hundred or so remained, surrounded by the endless wilderness alliance on this hill, like a white sailboat sailing on a stormy sea, not knowing when it would be overturned by a large wave.

Frankly, if the opponents weren’t different races, the fate of being captured would only be beheading to be used as meat. The surrounding soldiers would probably have dropped their weapons and knelt to surrender.

Nearly half the casualties—even the most elite legions of Deber couldn’t withstand such a casualty rate. If it reached nearly thirty to forty percent, they would begin to collapse.

Fugin knew that the strongest army in history was the Holy Light Knights of the Holy Light Church, who had a death ratio of sixty percent in that desperate battle against the undead army. In the end, they relied on their tenacious willpower to block the undead tide, successfully buying valuable time for friendly forces and resolving the undead disaster that left a heavy mark on history.

But those present were not Holy Light Knights, nor were there any friendly forces. The opposition, however, was similar to the undead scourge.

They charged upwards recklessly, endlessly, causing an overwhelming sense of despair.

“Damn Fojello, what the hell is he doing? I’ve been fighting here for almost a day, and I haven’t even seen a ghost.”

Skyward, who never swore, had learned a few essences from the lord. He angrily cursed continuously.

According to the original plan, Lord Li was to go around to support the city walls. They only needed to hold here and wait for Fojello to come to their aid, so they could successfully establish a line of defense here and become a thorn in the enemy's side.

The plan was fine. They successfully blocked the attack of this wilderness alliance, but they had been fighting from day to night, and none of the messengers sent out had returned.

The main force they were thinking about didn't emerge from Shadow Forest at all.

It was as if Shadow Forest had suddenly become a brothel, and they had all gone to sleep with women.

The situation now was beyond just heavy losses. If it weren't for those panda people resisting the minotaurs, they would have been wiped out long ago. How could they have fought until now?

The equipment of the wilderness people was incomparable to the Thorns Legion. Even compared to those country militia, it could only be said to be so shabby that even the stingiest commander would have to cough up the embezzled gold coins to purchase a slightly decent militia set of three.

Many minotaurs could only wear self-made animal skin armor, whose defense could only be said to be better than nothing.

But in reality, the better-equipped Thorns Legion did not gain an advantage against these beggar-like minotaurs. These beastmen warriors were simply too strong.

They roared and swung heavy blows with their arms wide open. The crude iron hammers landed solidly, emitting a sparking explosion, as if they were striking iron. Even the heavy infantry of the Thorns Legion, wrapped in iron cans like plate armor, were beaten until they vomited blood.

But when the opponent was changed, the outcome was completely different.

The panda people, who were even more burly than these minotaurs, were like bullying a group of malnourished cousins.

Both were three-bladed tall strongmen, but the panda people were obviously more developed horizontally. The two behemoths roared and collided, black iron smashing against black iron, sparks flying, blood and flesh splattering, and finally merging into streams on the already muddy ground. The iron-blooded stench permeated the world.

The seemingly invincible minotaurs fell to the ground, their facial bones embedded with the weapons that had been smashed back in the collision, completely lifeless.

In this battle for the bravest beastmen, the minotaurs ended regretfully.

Because they discovered that, whether in strength or martial skills, they had to admit that they were weaker than these simple-looking black and white fat people in front of them.

The main force of this war consisted of minotaurs, pig-men, and lizardmen.

In contrast, the goblins seemed brave and almost completed the feat of taking the enemy general's second brother from the midst of the army, but their actual performance explained why the vassals were vassals.

Faced with the heavy plate armor of the Thorns Legion, their clumsy attacks were like tickling, completely cannon fodder level.

The reason why the wilderness alliance brought them was entirely because they jumped around in the crowd and could attract some of the enemy human warriors' attention.

The current situation was that nearly three to four thousand wilderness rabble were besieging the five to six hundred Thorns Legion soldiers teetering on the hill.

In reality, the number was far greater than this, but this terrain could only support so many people to launch an attack at the same time, and more could not spread out.

As for how many people were behind in the wilderness, Li Wei couldn't see. The goose feather snow falling from the sky blocked his view.

“The situation is a little better than I imagined.”

Li Wei tucked the telescope back on his lower back, lowered his head and grinned at Heather, revealing a mouthful of white teeth.

He jumped easily from his shoulders to the snow beside him.

“Lord, do you really have to stand on my shoulders to see clearly?”

Heather looked resentful. If eyes could kill, the lord would probably have been cut into pieces long ago, and finally thrown into the dwarves' iron-smashing machine to be smashed into minced meat and fused with the red-hot iron.

“Don’t you understand that standing high allows you to see far? Forget it, what am I saying to a military idiot.” The lord waved his hand and put on his iron armor himself.

Earlier, in order not to waste time, he had rushed over in a hurry. Now that he saw that Skyward and Panda could still hold on for a while, the lord was not in a hurry.

Heather was gnashing her teeth with anger, and looking at his back, she really wanted to smash a plastic energy spell on his head.

“What are you standing there dumbfounded for? Don’t you have any sense? Hurry up and put on my armor for me?” Li Wei suddenly turned around, his face full of dissatisfaction.

Under the dim moonlight, the drow elf smiled. Even if the strictest etiquette teacher in Deber came, they couldn't find any fault: “Yes, Lord.”