There was chaos in front of me, no wonder dreams, only darkness, I don’t know how long I spent in it. When Warcreck woke up again, his eyes were approaching the late sunset. He was in chaos in front of me, and he found himself leaning against a big rock. The pinnacle 23S.

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There was a road ahead, and there were busy citizens and soldiers coming and going on the road. The soldier who saved him was gone. Maybe he was leaving himself here.

Holding his still heavy head, Warcreek struggled to remove his helmet, and then looked at the helmet, there was a conspicuous dent on it.

Warcreek gritted his teeth, stood up with all his might, walked a few steps to find a canal, where Warcreek found a bucket, filled half a bucket of water, and took a few sips first.

At this time, he saw his reflection in the water through the dim light.

His face was covered with blood and a large bruise on his forehead, which happened to be in the depression of his helmet.

"What a ruthless bastard. I plan to kill me at that time!" Walkerk sighed, and took out water from the bucket to clean his face and his blood-stained helmet.

Walking on the road, riding on the night, miraculously, Attila's army stopped its attack, so this was a crucial moment, and it was naturally impossible for the Romans to relax.

The soldiers and citizens came and went on the streets, carrying stones and wood. At the bridge and on the river bank, the soldiers built a city wall more than 1.5 meters high as a defense line.

Walker slowly came to the bridge step by step, and the soldiers stationed there were holding torches. When they saw Walker coming, they hurriedly saluted.

"How is it now? I mean the defense now." Walkerk really didn't know that it was time to talk to these strange soldiers, so he hesitantly asked a question and then stood on the defense line at the bridgehead.

Opposite, a large number of barbarians were standing opposite the bridge, because they had made many attacks for this, and the corpses on the bridge could be seen.

"How many times did the barbarians attack?"

Seeing the corpse on the ground made Warcreck's face darker, and for a moment the dullness on his face disappeared, replaced by solemnity.

"We need to add more stones to strengthen the foundation here." Warcreck pointed below and said to the soldiers.

"But we don't know you, sir." A soldier said with a cautious look on his face: "We don't know your true identity yet."

"Yes, maybe it's a savage spy, right?" the soldiers said, raising their spears and pointing them at Warcreek in front of them.

"Yes, you really don't know me."

Warcreek approached the flames, he took off his helmet, exposed the bruise on his forehead and said to the soldiers: "I am just a Roman who suffered a loss on the walls, but I will fight with you tomorrow at dawn, and report the damage caused to me by the barbarians at noon today."

In the main church, Bishop Ananus knelt before the cross carved with God, with a statue of Jesus' crucifixion on it.

Ananus knelt down on the stage, wearing a plain robe, and at this time he looked more like a devout believer than ever before.

"O God, I beg you to be pitiful to your devout believers, so that we can get redemption, redemption, yes, descending to represent your army, bless Orleans, well, bless Rome!"

Even though Bishop Anenus prayed over and over again, Jesus still lowered his head slightly and died as if he was asleep.

Did he hear Anenus' prayer? No one knew that he was the only one in the church, and his heart was as dark as the sunset.

The next day, a sharp horn sounded around.

"Come on, come and have a look!"

The roar of the soldiers woke up Walkerick, who was sleeping alone in the corner of the street.

It was just dawning and the sun had not revealed too much. Everything is now in a hazy state

He rubbed his sleepy eyes and saw a large group of soldiers running towards the "city wall" with spears and iron swords.

Warcrek felt a hint of crisis for the first time, so he hurriedly stood up and followed the large army to the defense line at the bridgehead.

At this time, the place was filled with soldiers, wearing rusty helmets and holding spears, crowded in chaos, archers were also standing on the city walls and roofs, and more soldiers were holding spears and darts, ready to fight against the barbarians who could attack at any time.

But the barbarians were not as impulsive as they were yesterday, thinking that they could defeat the Romans in Orleans with their huge numbers and fears, but they failed.

At this time, the Romans only saw the barbarians on the other side of the river pushing the catapult onto the street.

At the bridgehead, a large number of prisoners were kneeling there, and behind them were barbarians holding bright iron swords.

Attila was standing across the river, surrounded by tribal leaders, sitting in a tall and gorgeous car. He was not tall, wearing black armor and a black iron helmet inlaid with gold. On the helmet, a long black horse scattered all the way down to his chest.

Seeing him in this way, not only Warcrek, but also the soldiers beside him and behind him. Everyone stared at the Hunter who was close to him and brought them infinite fear.

Attila raised his right hand slightly. When his soldiers saw his hands, they immediately held the hilt of the iron sword with both hands and raised it above their heads.

"They are going to kill prisoners of war?"

A soldier exclaimed, and his surprise caused panic among the people around him. After all, he used brutal means to treat prisoners of war, whether Romans or barbarians, they were good at and loved to do so.

Attila's raised hand slashed down fiercely. At the same time, his soldiers waved the iron sword in their hands and pushed the prisoners of war who were unable to move.

At that moment, everyone who witnessed it with their own eyes trembled unvoluntarily.

The blood from last night solidified on the ground, but soon a new bright red blood was added.

A person's head rolled down and was kicked into the clear river by other savages with a grin. The headless bodies gushing with blood fell to the ground like puppets without support, and the bodies were still trembling.

"Oh my God, my God!"

The soldiers exclaimed, pointing to the tragic situation he had witnessed with his own eyes.

"Don't be deceived by them, that's their fear." Warcreek roared loudly, and grabbed the shield of the soldiers beside him, pulled out the iron sword, and kept beating, trying to attract the attention of everyone present.

"Don't be intimidated by their swords. If you are afraid, you will be killed by them with the same means. So, take up your weapons and resist! Resist!"

The citizens and soldiers were silent, looking at the man who kept shouting in front of them, they didn't know what to do, but just looked at Warcrek silently.

"We will eventually be redeemed, but God needs to see our courage when we are redeemed!" said Warcrek, matte the iron sword in his hand. "They are here, with God's questioning, the answer is right under our sword, so let's answer this question!"
Chapter completed!