Other quiver soldiers, even if their vision had not yet recovered, still rushed over following the sounds.
A quiver soldier bumped into Winters' armor and immediately wrapped his arms around Winters' waist, hugging him as if trying to squeeze him into two.
"[Herde Language] I've got him! Kill him!" the quiver soldier shouted.
After just one sentence, he was blown to pieces by a disintegration spell, brain matter bursting out.
But more quiver soldiers flocked toward the noise, their sight gradually returning.
Winters was now surrounded, he knocked down a quiver soldier in front of him, a hammer crushing the opponent's face.
As he swung his hammer down, another iron hammer smashed viciously onto his back.
Winters fell forward from the blow, landing on the body of a quiver soldier. The force was dispersed through the backplate of his armor, yet it still hurt so much he couldn't breathe.
He swung his arm, shattering the knee of a quiver soldier. Twisting his body desperately, he unleashed a disintegration spell on the fierce savage in front of him.
Warm blood sprayed onto his visor, and even entered his eyes through the bars of the observation slit.
The dead quiver soldier's body, out of control, pressed down heavily on Winters.
"Not good," was the only thought in Winters' mind.
Before he could push the corpse off himself, other quiver soldiers threw themselves onto the body.
Winters' limbs and internal organs were being crushed bit by bit—not phantom pains, but real, acute pain.
Under the pile of quiver soldiers, Winters roared and wailed like a dying wild beast.
He no longer reserved any magic, launching disintegration spells one after another, unaimed and indiscriminate.
But it was useless, he kept killing quiver soldiers one by one, yet their bodies still piled up on him like a mountain, slowly crushing him to death. For original chapters go to novel•fire.net
Many fragments of his life flooded into his mind.
He remembered going grave-sweeping with his mother as a child, his mother pointing to two unfamiliar grave markers, telling him that's where his parents were—from then on, his mother became his aunt.
He thought of the ecstasy when he received his first wooden sword from Antonio. But from that day on, he was woken early every day to practice swordsmanship, and he grew to detest that wooden sword.
He recalled fighting with Benvenuto when he first joined Lu You, the kids from the dock district always looking to teach a lesson to the kids from the military housing district. After a few fights, they actually became good friends.
He remembered Elizabeth, ugly and wrinkly when she was just born, Ella had already grown into a young lady.
But when Ella was born, he was full of the fear that his "parents" would no longer love him unconditionally. Ah, why did he think like that at the time?
Lastly, he remembered Anna's hair tips bathed in sunlight, her upturned lips, mischievous gaze, and her calling him "Mr. Montaigne."
Since when did he start to care about Miss Navarre? He couldn't say, perhaps it started with that slap.
"Will you forget me?" Winters slowly closed his eyes, truly exhausted. Although reluctant, perishing seemed okay.
He felt his body getting lighter and lighter, and suddenly a strange thought entered his mind, "I'm not actually going to heaven, am I?"
Even he wanted to laugh at the idea.
No, he was actually getting lighter…it was the weight pressing on him getting lighter.
Outside the "mountain of corpses," Xial plunged his sword fiercely into the back of the head of a still-living quiver soldier, as Heinrich and other fighters frantically pulled away the bodies of quiver soldiers.
Under the pile of corpses, they found Centurion Montaigne.
Xial trembled as he removed the helmet, and under the iron helmet, Winters actually seemed to be smiling.
"Why would you do this?" Xial pounded on Winters' breastplate, his voice breaking with a sob, "You still have us! Why do you always have to go in alone? You have us!"
Winters' smile grew wider.
The others clumsily helped the Centurion to his feet.
"That's right," Winters said with a smile, "I have you all."
"Bang! Bang!" A series of gunshots rang out not far away, both the living and the dead were blasted into a mess of flesh and blood.
Swift Hawk shouted ecstatically, "[Herde Language] Killed him!"
Winters felt a warmth in his abdomen. Instinctively reaching out, he only touched steel plate—the wound was underneath the armor.
He sat atop the body of a quiver soldier, struggling to keep himself upright.
"Xial!" Winters pointed at the Green Plumed Feathers, "Take their flag for me!"
"You take care of the Centurion," Xial yelled to Heinrich, who nodded emphatically.
Xial grabbed the military standard, lifted his saber high, and roared, "Follow me!"
The soldiers on the wall let out a thunderous battle cry, following Xial towards the destination of the horsetail military flag, chopping down the flagpole.
As for the Green Plumed Feathers, having pulled out his plumes, had already disappeared to who knows where.
The Paratu military flag replaced the horsetail military flag, and the spirits of the Paratu People inside the stronghold surged.
The barbarians, as if their spines had been ripped out, no longer possessed that fierce momentum.
"Open the breach, let them out!" Colonel Bod roared the order.
The soldiers guarding the breach moved back to both sides, creating a path for the barbarians to escape. From then on, the barbarians completely lost their will to resist.
At first one barbarian threw down his weapons and fled, and in the blink of an eye, all barbarians were in rout.