Chapter 168 The British heavy infantrymen held the logs

The British heavy infantrymen held the logs, threw them down, and smashed the Anglo-Saxon warriors off the scaling ladders.

Although not everyone would fall down.

But even if they could grab the scaling ladder tightly, they would be pressed by the log and unable to move.

With the ropes, the log would not free-fall until it fell into the pile of people further down, but was suspended in the middle of the scaling ladder.

This almost gave those who came later an insurmountable obstacle.

The Anglo-Saxons were blocked in front of the logs.

Someone drew an axe and hacked at the ropes binding the log.

“Pull it up quickly!” A British Soldier was constantly observing the situation below.

Others hurriedly pulled the ropes.

Then, the Anglo-Saxons climbed up one rung by taking advantage of the upward momentum of the log.

“Lower it!” The Soldier shouted again.

The log smashed onto the Anglo-Saxon’s shield again, but this time, the log falling from not very high above did not have sufficient acceleration.

The Anglo-Saxon pushed against the wood and took a step back.

Then he hacked at the ropes binding the log again.

This went back and forth again.

“Give me a shield!” The Anglo-Saxon shouted.

The shield had already been smashed into tatters by the sharp corners on the log.

When the log was pulled up again, he retreated downward instead, and took a perfect shield from the hand of the warrior behind.

He tied the shield to his left arm, held the scaling ladder with his left hand, and then tried to hack the rope of the log again.

A javelin came from top to bottom, penetrated the weak point of the armor defense, and pierced in from the Anglo-Saxon’s neck.

“Give me a javelin!” The British Soldier shouted to the back.

Holding the javelin and looking down again, that Anglo-Saxon had already fallen down.

He held the javelin in a reverse grip, preparing to aim.

The Anglo-Saxon’s arrow shot over and pierced into his left eye.

The British Soldier screamed and fell backward.

The Anglo-Saxons’ arrows fell onto the city wall with a clatter.

Their main force had arrived, and after leaving behind a large number of horrific corpses, the main force of the Anglo-Saxons advanced to the front, facing the firepower of the catapults and ballistae.

The archers relied on the shield carts to suppress the Soldiers on the city wall.

The situation seemed to have reversed; on the city wall, the British longbowmen could not stand behind the battlements where the battle was fierce to pull their bows, and could only use the narrow shooting slits of the towers to counterattack.

With a ding, an arrow deflected off the catapult operator’s helmet, and the engineers immediately crouched down.

At this distance, even the ballistae and catapults had fallen into a disadvantage.

Only the ballistae mounted high up on the castle’s main towers were still capable of firing.

However, only two were operational, and against the main force of the Anglo-Saxons that had already arrived, they could only produce a negligible effect.

“Reload!” the catapult commander roared, his voice straining as he huddled behind a standing shield.

A bag of stone projectiles was placed into the catapult’s sling by the loader, and an engineer turned the lever in an extremely awkward posture.

Clatter, clatter, clatter—

Arrows nailed into the catapult.

The commander glanced through the gap in the standing shield and had another Soldier slightly adjust the catapult’s rotatable pulley base.

“Fire!” he shouted.

The gunner struck the trigger with the hammer in his hand.

Twenty fist-sized stone projectiles lunged toward the Anglo-Saxons.

They scattered in the air and then slammed into the Anglo-Saxons like a fly swatter.

Those struck in the head had their skulls and helmets crushed flat; those hit in the shoulders and chests had their bones completely shattered; those struck in the abdomen suffered ruptured organs.

However.

For the entire army,

such damage was still too little.

“Reload!” the commander screamed again.

A gap appeared on the ramparts.

The rope of a battering ram log was severed; the Anglo-Saxon warrior who cut the rope was knocked off the scaling ladder by the log, which had lost its balance, but this could not stop those following behind from advancing.

The ramparts were too crowded.

Soldiers throwing javelins, Soldiers pulling logs, and Soldiers constantly bringing supplies up.

Before the gap could receive a new log, an Anglo-Saxon warrior pushed aside the spears blocking him from above. He leaped from the top of the scaling ladder. The spears of the Britain Soldiers were useless in such a crowded place, and their longswords struck the Anglo-Saxons only to be deflected by armor.

The Anglo-Saxon’s shield struck the Britain Soldier’s chin, blocked by the helmet’s cheek guard, and then the Anglo-Saxon’s axe slammed heavily onto the Soldier’s shoulder armor.

The Britain Soldier rushed at him, trying to push him off the battlements, but he cleverly leaned his back against the high point of the battlement.

The two collided, shield against shield. The Britain Soldier gripped his shortsword, trying to get around the shield to stab the Anglo-Saxon’s neck, while the Anglo-Saxon lowered his body, using his axe to hook the Britain Soldier’s legs.

The Britons didn’t see the Anglo-Saxon clearly and missed his stab; the Anglo-Saxon didn’t see the Britons clearly either, failing to hook his foot and instead grazing his leg armor.

Until the two rudely twisted together, rolling into a ball, eyes red as they used their respective weapons to strike at the possible weak points of each other’s armor.

This was the norm for heavy Soldiers combat most of the time.

Knight Anthony joined the front line of the battle, gripping his greatsword. He slashed at an Anglo-Saxon’s shield; it only took one strike. Anthony slashed diagonally along the grain of the shield, knocking one-third of it off the ramparts.

With another strike, he severed the chainmail neck guard and shoulder armor. The patterned steel greatsword sank into the Anglo-Saxon’s shoulder blade. Anthony pressed the Anglo-Saxon to turn him around, then kicked him off the ramparts.

He pulled out his sword in the same motion.

The chubby castle master, Knight Adlan, was nearby. A slash dented an Anglo-Saxon’s helmet half a palm deep. The next swing landed in the center of the dent, splitting the deformed helmet. It cut from the top of the Anglo-Saxon’s head down to his nose, and a red-and-white mixture flowed out.

The Anglo-Saxons who had climbed up this scaling ladder were repelled, but the attack continued.

“Look at that!”

A Soldier suddenly shouted.

He was pointing to the rear, in the direction of the castle. Anthony felt a strange wind and looked in that direction.

There was a figure at the highest point of the castle, and a visible cyan vortex was gathering and rotating toward where that Soldier was.