Medieval: Kingdom Come: Deliverance

"A bunch of idiots who can't see the situation!" Von Polgár lost his patience. "Attack!"

Von Olitz nodded slightly and issued the formal order to attack. The first wave of Prague militia, numbering about a hundred, howled like wild beasts and carried seven or eight makeshift ladders, surging towards the city walls like a tidal wave. At the same time, the crossbowmen in the rear also began to advance under the cover of shields, preparing to launch suppressive fire.

"Quick! Archers, move them to the wall! Roll logs and stones to the crenellations!" Jessica shouted hoarsely, giving orders.

The crow soldiers on the city wall frantically searched for their positions. Some drew their bows and arrows, and without waiting for orders, leaned out to fire down at the city walls.

"Fool! Don't show your face!" Hans yanked an overly excited archer back. Almost simultaneously, several powerful crossbow bolts whizzed over their heads and embedded themselves in the wooden posts behind them, their fletchings still trembling.

"Hold your fire! Wait until they get close!" Hans shouted, forcing himself to calm down and observing the battlefield as he had when he was a child undergoing military training in Lathai. He saw some brave but inexperienced defenders, having exposed too much of their bodies, being instantly struck by accurate crossbow bolts from below, screaming as they fell from the city walls.

"In war, what matters is not the battle, but the timing."

Father Goodwin did not participate in the fighting for the time being, but instead busied himself running around the city walls, helping to move arrows and stones, or kneeling down to give simple bandages and prayers to the wounded soldiers. His presence was like a kind of spiritual calming agent.

The Prague militiamen howled as they mounted ladders on the city wall and began to climb.

"Take it down!" Jessica commanded several soldiers wielding halberds to push aside a siege ladder. The enemies on the ladder screamed and fell backward along with it.

Hans stood guard on another section of the city wall. As soon as a Prague soldier wearing a mortise helmet emerged from the battlements, Hans unhesitatingly unleashed a textbook combo—parrying the opponent's slash while simultaneously flicking his wrist, the tip of his sword precisely piercing the gap between the soldier's chainmail and helmet. Blood gushed out, and the soldier fell silently.

The battle was brutal and intense.

Relying on the advantage of the city walls and a fierce fighting spirit, the defenders put up a stubborn resistance. Stones rained down, bowstrings hummed, and the cries of the dying and the clanging of weapons created a symphony of death.

Young Master Hans grew rapidly in the war. He would sometimes use "Cleave" to deflect enemy weapons, and sometimes use "Knee Strike" to attack the lower body. His movements were fluid and deadly. Even Michael, who fought alongside him, couldn't help but whisper in admiration: "This young nobleman is not entirely useless."

However, casualties among the Raven Army were also rising sharply. These undisciplined and untrained soldiers often perished under the fierce onslaught of the regular army due to coordination errors or lack of courage.

Half an hour later, the first wave of Prague militia, having left behind more than thirty corpses, finally retreated like a receding tide. A brief calm returned to the city walls, leaving only a scene of devastation and the lingering stench of blood.

Hans leaned on his sword, panting heavily, sweat mixed with blood streaming down his forehead. Looking at the exhausted and heavily wounded defenders around him, he felt no joy of victory, only heavy worry.

Seeing the initial defeat, the old count couldn't help but ask von Olitz, "Why didn't we use cannons?"

"The cost of firing a cannon is far more expensive than a human life, my Count."

"Von Olitz said coldly."

"Then let's launch another attack." The old count nodded in agreement. "We can't let those bandits in the castle have a chance to catch their breath."

"As you wish."

The enemy launched a second wave of attacks. This time, the intensity of the attack was significantly increased, and more elite heavily armored soldiers from the Prague puppet army were deployed.

"Attention! They're focusing their attack on the left side of the city gate tower!" the lookout shouted hoarsely.

Jessica and Hans immediately led their men to the area under the most pressure. However, the enemy seemed to be using a feint. Just as their attention was diverted, another small group of enemies successfully scaled the castle walls from the weakest point in the rear defenses using grappling hooks and ladders, opening a path to the castle's inner courtyard!

"Oh no! The enemy has entered the inner courtyard!" a soldier ran up in a panic to report.

Jessica's expression changed: "Hans! Come with me! Michael, you take some men and guard this place!"

Jessica and Hans, with a dozen or so soldiers still able to fight, quickly rushed down the city wall and into the inner courtyard. The terrain here was relatively open, but it was filled with debris and makeshift shacks.

About fifty heavily armored Prague warriors had already stormed in, forming small battle formations and beginning to mop up the guards in the inner courtyard. Some panicked Raven soldiers tried to resist, but were quickly cut down by the overwhelming superior equipment and training.

"For old Oz!" Hans roared, charging into the enemy ranks first. Images of old Oz's patience as he taught him swordsmanship, Nicholas's honest smile flashed through his mind… Driven by the flames of revenge, he poured all his strength into every strike. With a "Raging Strike," he cleaved through an enemy's shield, followed by a "Side Slash" that slit the enemy's throat.

Jessica was equally formidable, possessing extensive combat experience. He wielded a two-handed sword, swinging it with tremendous force. He didn't pursue flashy techniques, but rather focused on killing in the simplest and most effective way. His swordsmanship resembled a practical skill honed on the battlefield, brimming with wildness and power.

Father Goodwin also joined the fray. His swordsmanship was formidable; his Rosen Four Styles were both elegant and efficient.

The battle within the inner courtyard was far more brutal and bloody than that on the city walls. Without the protection of the walls, it was pure hand-to-hand combat. Sparks flew as swords struck armor, and the sounds of dying groans and the dull thuds of weapons piercing flesh filled the air.

Hans felt his arm growing heavier and heavier, his breathing like bellows. He saw a young Raven Soldier being besieged by two heavily armored enemies, in dire straits. He immediately rushed to his aid, a "Fiore Half-Sword Style" strike precisely piercing the peephole of one enemy's visor. But the other enemy's longsword was already thrusting towards his ribs! It seemed there was no time to dodge—

With a crisp clang, Goodwin parried the fatal blow with his heavy two-handed sword and shouted to Hans, "Keep coordinating! Don't go in alone!"

Hans felt a chill run down his spine and immediately moved closer to Goodwin, Jessica, and the others, forming a small circular formation to cover each other and gradually eliminate the scattered enemies.

After nearly twenty minutes of fierce fighting, they finally annihilated all fifty-odd elite enemies who had stormed into the inner courtyard. However, they also paid a heavy price; of the soldiers who had followed them down, only five or six remained, all wounded. Jessica had a gash on his forehead, blood staining half his face. Hans's left arm was also slashed, burning with pain. They stood in the center of the inner courtyard, littered with corpses, covered in blood, and nearly exhausted.

"Third wave! All troops, charge!" Von Olitz coldly watched the fierce battle inside the castle and issued the order for a general offensive.

The remaining Prague puppet troops, like a flood bursting its banks, launched a final, fierce attack from multiple directions. The defending forces, already suffering heavy casualties and exhausted, finally collapsed completely in the face of the enemy's overwhelming offensive.

With reinforcements from within and fierce attacks from the outside, the city gates were smashed open. The main enemy force poured in.

"Retreat! Retreat to the main tower!" Jessica knew that the city walls and inner courtyard had fallen, leaving only the last line of defense—the most solid stone tower in the center of the castle.

Jessica, Hans, Goodwin, and the few remaining old brothers—Michael, Catherine, Hurt, Zwick, Mark, Perzel, and a handful of surviving Ravens—frantically retreated into the tower, slammed the heavy oak doors shut, and braced them with thick bolts and support pillars.

Outside the tower, hundreds of Prague soldiers had completely surrounded the area.

Inside the tower, the atmosphere was incredibly oppressive. Including the lightly wounded, there were fewer than fifteen people in total. Jessica leaned against the cold stone wall and slowly slid down to the ground. He looked at his old brothers who had fought alongside him through thick and thin; their faces bore the marks of exhaustion, scars, and a barely perceptible hint of despair. Catherine silently handed him a water pouch.

Jessica was filled with remorse. He had underestimated the strength and equipment of the Prague army, and overestimated the fighting power and willpower of his ragtag group. In that instant, he remembered Peter's words when he lent him the castle: "God has a price for every gift; are you prepared to pay it?"

He thought he was ready.

But reality dealt him a heavy blow.

"The price...is this the price?" Jessica thought bitterly, "The blood of my brothers, and my unrealistic ambition..." He looked at Catherine beside him, trembling slightly with fear, and saw his weary and bewildered old brother. For the first time, he wavered in his decision. Could he really hold out until Peter led reinforcements? Was he capable of leading everyone to glory, not to their graves?