Life in a Simulation - Chapter 29

On the slopes of a concave valley running north to south.

Separated by a distance of over a thousand meters, two armies, already arrayed in battle formation, faced each other.

The layout of the two armies was roughly the same. The most numerous group, the peasants armed with spears, stood in the center at the very front. Mercenaries and archers were arrayed on either side, and at the rear of the formation were the heavily armored knights.

Clerics holding crosses walked back and forth in front of these phalanxes, pointing to their chests and foreheads, blessing the warriors who were about to step onto the battlefield.

In the most densely flagged area of the southern army, a group of nobles in fine armor gathered around an elderly man with pale hair and beard, who wore a magnificent suit of armor beneath a fox fur cloak. This dignified old man was naturally the protagonist of this battle—Count Lautiz.

Count Lautiz’s piercing gaze swept across the battlefield. Upon seeing a group of soldiers under the rose flag in the formation, he was slightly surprised and said, “Why have so many peasants from Granling come? There must be over a thousand peasants, right?”

Count Lautiz’s Rozberk County, which consisted of twelve baronies, had brought all the knights from their territories today. Including the knight guard that Count Lautiz himself had brought, there were over 150 knights in total, forming the core force.

In addition to the knights, there were also over 500 mercenaries recruited by Count Lautiz and his subordinate barons, who constituted the main force.

The rest were the peasant troops who were to be used as cannon fodder. Count Lautiz himself did not bring any peasants, but each of the twelve subordinate barons brought some, ranging from 1,200 to 3,400 people, making a total of over 3,000.

However, it was quite rare for a territory like Granling to muster over a thousand strong peasants at once.

It should be known that even in Count Lautiz’s own direct territory, it was very difficult to gather a thousand peasants. Could it be that, as rumored, Granling had been very productive and prosperous in recent years?

“My lord, these are all the peasants I could muster from my territory. After this battle, much of my land may be left fallow,” Baron Connor rode forward to explain.

“Baron Connor, you haven’t called all the fathers of the children in your territory here, have you? Once these fathers die, will the children go to the castle and call you ‘father’?” Baron Garcia, an old rival, sarcastically remarked. Baron Connor was becoming more and more cowardly, actually pinning the victory of this war on these numerous peasants.

“Baron Connor, I’ve heard that the peasants of Granling are quite good at farming. Let’s hope they don’t all die this time. I’d like to invite a few peasants from Granling to Yoken to teach my lazy farmers how to farm,” Baron Howard, who also didn’t get along well with Baron Connor, said with a smile.

“Enough! All of you go back and command your troops. The enemy forces have already moved out. Get ready for battle!”

Hearing the sound of horns and drums from the opposite side and seeing the enemy formation slowly moving forward, the experienced Count Lautiz waved his hand and said.

“Yes, my lord!”

The barons spurred their horses and returned to their respective command positions.

…

Thump, thump, thump.

The sound of war drums came from behind the formation. The rhythm of these thumps indicated that the troops should march at a normal speed.

Thump-thump-thump, thump-thump-thump, thump-thump-thump.

The rhythm of the drums quickened, signaling that the advancing formation should pick up the pace.

Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump…

Until the drums no longer paused, the two peasant armies, separated by less than fifteen meters and almost within arm’s reach, successively burst into a roar!

“Kill!”

On the battle line, the two ragged peasant legions armed with spears collided.

“Kill!”

In the formation, Zhou Ming, who was in the middle of the first row of the third peasant team of Granling, roared in anger, took a step forward, and accurately inserted the spear tip into the neck of a likely sixteen-year-old boy opposite him.

Pffft!

Hot, foul-smelling blood sprayed onto Zhou Ming. He saw a hint of pain and confusion in the boy’s clear eyes, but he had no time to sympathize or hesitate. He forcefully pulled out the spear stuck in the boy’s throat and thrust it into the abdomen of a thin peasant beside him, raising the hardwood shield in his left hand to block several spears stabbing at him from the left.

“Kill! Kill! Kill!”

Like all the peasants on the battlefield, Zhou Ming had no thoughts at this moment, only the relentless killing. He killed anyone standing in front of him, whether they were old men with white hair or young boys who were not yet adults. There was only one word: kill!

“Five, six, seven… eight… nine.”

In the chaotic battlefield where friend and foe were mixed together, Zhou Ming had already thrust his spear into nine people, all hitting vital spots with no survivors.

“Return my brother’s life!”

A roar of anger came from behind. Zhou Ming, who was deeply engrossed in the fight, suddenly had a moment of distraction and suddenly remembered the look in the eyes of the boy he had killed at the beginning… Shaking off his daze and turning his head, he saw a robust young man, holding a spear, stabbing towards his back, the spear tip was already very close.

“My life is over…”

Just like many people’s last moment before a car accident, Zhou Ming forgot to dodge, staring blankly at the spear tip that was getting closer and closer to him, about to pierce his body.

“Layne, dodge!”

A roar came, and it was Uncle O’Neil, who stabbed the robust young man with his spear. The robust young man spat out a mouthful of blood, glared at Zhou Ming with a look of reluctance, and then fell to the ground and died.

“Uncle O’Neil, you saved my life!”

Zhou Ming, who had just calmed down, came to Uncle O’Neil and said gratefully.

“Boy, this is the battlefield, not a place to daydream… Pffft!” Uncle O’Neil had not finished speaking when a spear was thrust into his back and came out of his chest.

“Uncle O’Neil!”

Zhou Ming angrily threw the spear in his hand, nailing the attacker to the ground. He went forward and held Uncle O’Neil, who was vomiting large chunks of blood, tears streaming down his face.

“Uncle O’Neil, don’t die, please don’t die!”

“Lay… Layne, live on… take care of… my family…” Before he could finish, Uncle O’Neil’s body went limp, his eyes wide open, and he left this world.

“Uncle O’Neil, I will definitely take care of your family!”

Zhou Ming closed Uncle O’Neil’s eyes, picked up a spear from the side, and with bloodshot eyes, he frantically stabbed one enemy after another.

“Run!” “Run quickly!” “We’re all going to die!” “…”

This brutal and bloody melee lasted only half a quarter of an hour. The peasant team of Baron William from the north, who were clearly at a numerical disadvantage, fled to the north in panic after suffering heavy casualties. Many were even shot by their own archers in their haste, and most had to escape through the steep slopes on either side.

Zhou Ming’s side of the peasant army won with a significant advantage, but it was not yet time to complete the mission and leave the battlefield. The drumming from the rear sounded again. Zhou Ming and the other peasants had to reorganize and march towards the mercenary army of Baron William in the north.

“Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh…”

The archers among the northern mercenaries launched a dense barrage of arrows from the high ground. After accelerating to a certain height, the powerful penetration of the arrows knocked down a large number of unprotected peasants.

Zhou Ming was fortunate enough to find a shield. He held the shield in front of him, braved the rain of arrows, and charged forward. His hardwood shield was already pierced by more than a dozen arrows, with half of the arrow shafts protruding out.

“Throw axes!”

“Throw javelins!”

At the command, the mercenaries’ axe throwers and javelin throwers hurled dense flying axes and javelins towards Zhou Ming’s peasant team. Zhou Ming turned his head in horror to find that his surroundings were filled with teammates lying in pools of blood. Even the hardwood shield in his hand was shattered by a flying axe, leaving his arm swollen and numb.

“Charge!”

Seeing a group of mercenaries of various sizes, armed with a variety of weapons such as knives, spears, halberds, and axes, roaring and charging at him, Zhou Ming’s scalp tingled. He no longer had the courage to be a hero. He threw away the spear in his hand, shouted in a strange voice to dodge the various thrown weapons from behind, and sprinted towards the safe area with all his might.

The more than ten years of persistent running training finally paid off on the battlefield. The mercenaries, who were carrying iron weapons and wearing heavy armor, had limited stamina and gradually could not keep up with Zhou Ming, who was running faster than a rabbit. They had to give up the pursuit of this single target and instead charged towards the mercenary army of Count Lautiz, which was charging from the opposite direction.

“Safe, thank goodness! This life is finally saved.”

After escaping to a safe area on the high ground and hiding in a patch of grass, Zhou Ming, panting heavily, slowly calmed his racing heart. Only then did his vision and attention return to the battlefield, where the fighting had not yet ended.

Life in a Simulation - Chapter 29

Comments for "Chapter 29"

Hate that cliffhanger, don’t you?

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