parentshiftbook Chapter 21: Almost
Chapter 21: Almost
Ron loaded the crossbow bolt into the slot, then slung it over his back, while simultaneously bringing up the system panel.
Physical condition: 15
Power: 12
Spirit: 9
Mana: 47/60
Unassigned attribute points: 1
11 formwork buildings have been completed.
I used up a lot of mana last night building a new weapon, but I recovered some while traveling. I currently have 47 points left.
He will need magic to build traps, mainly horse traps, but the horse traps will contain spikes formed by solidification magic, which will surely surprise the goblin army.
The remaining magic power is used to control the mage's hand to quickly cock the heavy crossbow, and some needs to be reserved to deal with unexpected situations.
He estimated that it should be enough to fight this battle.
Old Hall and the laborers set up the weapons wrapped in burlap at the foot of the slope.
The wooden frame was disassembled, reassembled, and tightened.
The setting sun cast a rusty sheen on the rough wooden components.
That was a counterweight catapult, capable of launching boulders weighing up to 100 kilograms, and it was their trump card in this battle.
As soon as the counterweight catapult was assembled, Doron began to put stones into the counterweight box to increase the counterweight, following Ron's instructions.
The counterweight catapult, also known as the trebuchet or gravity catapult, was one of the most terrifying siege weapons of the Middle Ages.
Instead of relying on human strength to pull it, it uses the gravitational potential energy generated by the falling of a huge counterweight box to fling out stone projectiles weighing tens or even hundreds of kilograms, like a seesaw.
Looking at the weapons of war before him, Old Hall couldn't help but marvel at his young master's wildly imaginative ideas.
The kingdom now mainly uses two types of catapults: torsion and spring-loaded. The former is highly accurate but easily affected by aging, while the latter is easy to manufacture but has little power.
Mad squatted on the top of the slope and lined up the first row of militia archers.
These militia members were selected from among the able-bodied displaced people, preferably those who were hunters, and after the war, they were very likely to join their hunting teams.
However, most of them had only trained for less than a week. Their bow-drawing posture was fairly standard, but their accuracy was not guaranteed.
However, no aim was needed; Mad pointed down the slope in the direction of the goblins.
"Shoot into dense areas, don't aim, aiming will only make it miss."
Shanlier squatted at the very edge of the first row, his palms sweaty, making his body slippery.
The militiaman next to him was even more nervous than him; his lips had turned white.
Sanlir grinned at him.
He was among the first group of people Fanta selected for the militia, and he did a lot of work that was even tougher than training, but at least he could still smile when facing goblins.
Leonardo da Vinci led his convicts to form a line at the foot of the slope. They had only bone spears and flint axes, and little leather armor; they relied entirely on their old fur coats and leggings to protect their vital organs.
But their expressions were different from others; they weren't tense, but rather a kind of ruthless, desperate look.
Anyway, if you don't win, you die; if you win, you can change your identity.
Taking a gamble with your life is worthwhile.
Old Hall put Doron in charge of the catapults, while he and Ron headed towards the target location.
The militiamen and guards on the hillside watched silently as their lord went to lure the enemy, their expressions complex.
Fanta whispered to the guards around him, "You all better be on your guards. We absolutely cannot let the lord suffer any losses, or I'll chop you all down."
Doron looked helpless. His captain was passionate, and his lord was someone who liked to lead from the front. He felt a lot of pressure.
One wrong move and the whole army is wiped out.
Leonardo da Vinci looked at Ron's actions with a complicated expression. As a formal knight, he had fought for many lords, but he had never seen a lord like this before.
A lord should not hide in the background and wait until the situation is settled before showing up and declaring victory.
Even in the face of a crushing defeat, the lord could leave unscathed, leaving behind his defeated and utterly defeated troops.
If they encounter a lord with a conscience, he will redeem them; if they encounter a lord without a conscience, he will simply abandon them.
If it weren't for the Blackthorn Wasteland's urgent need for population expansion, they would either have become slaves or been executed.
This was the first time he had ever seen a lord who led from the front.
This feeling was strange, and Leonardo da Vinci couldn't explain why.
I have a feeling that this lord is more worthy of following than the other lords.
Ron led Old Hall down the hillside and began to hollow out the soil directly in front of them, without letting the surface collapse.
This required a high level of magical control, so Ron was in charge of hollowing out the underground, while Old Hall was responsible for condensing earth spikes underground.
Because the area where the two were working was a trench that had been dug out slowly, they were not discovered. The excavated soil was piled up on the hillside, making the slope increasingly steep.
As Ron completed most of his combat objectives, a war wolf instinctively sniffed the air and then howled.
Old Hall immediately grabbed Ron.
"Young master, we've been discovered."
Ron glanced furtively at the goblin camp and saw a dozen wolf riders rushing toward their area.
"These beasts have a really good nose," Ron cursed, then turned and ran.
One was a knight's apprentice, and the other was a veteran architectural mage. Their physical abilities far surpassed those of ordinary people, and they used the trenches to move quickly.
The goblin wolf riders split into two groups, skillfully avoiding the trap in the middle. It wasn't that they noticed the trap, but rather that the slope in the middle section was too steep.
The wolf warrior carrying the goblin charged uphill from the front, which consumed too much of his energy and affected his charging speed.
Going up the gentle slopes on both sides wouldn't have much of an impact, which was within Ron's expectations.
Because Fanta and Leonardo da Vinci were lying in ambush on the gentle slopes on both sides.
Seeing the wolf riders chasing after the lord, Fanta immediately raised his hands.
"Everyone, prepare yourselves. Let the wolf riders get close. Fire your arrows at my command."
Mad, hidden in the bushes on the hillside, felt his palms tremble as he watched the wolf riders rapidly approach the lord, his heart pounding faster than ever.
If something happens to the lord, his slowly recovering days will be over again.
Mad drew his bow and nocked an arrow, but instead of pulling it, he kept his eyes fixed on the wolf rider closest to Ron.
As the wolf riders were about to enter firing range, Mad slowly drew back his bow.
"Young master! Hurry, the wolf riders are catching up!" Old Hall shouted, then subconsciously slowed down, already determined to cover the rear.
Ron passed by him and immediately dragged him away.
"Trust Fanta!"
The distance between the wolf riders and Ron rapidly decreased: fifty meters, forty meters... five meters.
The wolf rider's cleaver closest to Ron was almost touching his back.
call out!
The wolf rider's cruel smile froze on his face.
Two bone arrows struck him simultaneously, knocking him off the war wolf.
Upon seeing its master dead, the Wolf roared and lunged at Ron's back.
Just as the wolf's claws were about to grab Ron's back, Old Hall tackled Ron to the ground, drawing his cross sword and plunging it directly into the wolf's abdomen.
Old Hall pushed aside the wolf's corpse and hurriedly shouted, "Young Master, you go quickly, I'll cover your retreat."
Ron glanced around, slowly stood up, plunged his knight's sword into the still-breathing war wolf's head, chopped off the wolf's head with a forceful slash, then raised it high, giving the goblin army in the goblin camp the middle finger.