Standing in the square, the soldier closest to the white cloth suddenly noticed something at his feet out of the corner of his eye. Just as he was about to look down, a tremendous force knocked him to the ground. Moments later, several ferocious figures pounced on him. Blood mingled with screams; the sudden scene stunned everyone present.

"The corpse has come back to life!"

"The demons have taken control of their bodies!"

They will devour our souls!

Wilder drew his longsword, kicked away the lunging 'puppet,' and shouted to the soldiers around him, "Retreat! Retreat! Get away from those corpses! Form battle lines!"

The knight who shouted the command played a crucial role in the chaos. The soldiers found their backbone in the battle, and more and more people retreated to the edge of the square, forming a semi-circular defensive line.

If their opponents were ruthless bandits or heretics who worshipped evil gods, things might have been better. However, the faces of their enemies were none other than their former comrades-in-arms, which gradually plunged the soldiers into a bitter struggle.

A middle-aged soldier, watching the pale-faced infected slowly approaching him, burst into tears. His longsword fell to the ground in despair. He opened his arms wide and said, "I can't raise my weapon against my only brother... I can't do it..." A few seconds later, the 'puppet' tackled him, extinguishing a flame of life.

On the front lines, seeing the enemy's face, fewer and fewer soldiers either gave up resistance or turned to run away. They were able to muster the courage to launch an attack.

The fallen soldiers quickly became new puppets under the control of the Hive, and the ratio of enemy to friendly forces was gradually balanced, even shifting in the opposite direction.

“Damn it! You idiots! Fools! These guys over there are no longer our comrades, they're enemies! Raise your..." Wilder swung his longsword, decapitating an infected, and was about to look for his next target when a figure approaching him made him stop speaking and halt in his tracks: “...Sir Adams...Commander..."

Watching the 'puppet' who was once the castle commander walk step by step toward his friend, Alfonso roared in panic, but his weapon was firmly held by three or four enemies, rendering him unable to move.

The situation on the battlefield is getting worse and worse.

Just then, Todra, with Karin by his side, stood on the high platform in the square. He removed his cloak and hood, revealing his priestly robes, which shone brightly in the firelight. He raised the cross high and shouted to the soldiers, "Almighty Father! In Your name we are gathered together. We ask that You deliver us from the clutches of evil, and that the sword and the flames redeem the souls of these fallen ones! Amen!"

One of the soldiers immediately recognized the person praying: "It's Father Todd!"

"The Holy Son has arrived!"

"The Lord has come to save us!"

"God Father above! Let the Holy Light save the souls of my brothers!"

Longswords were swung, knives and axes were brandished, and heads flew into the air.

The battle was quickly brought under control, and the 'puppets' were soon surrounded and wiped out without exception.

Knight Wilder lowered his longsword, looked at Sir Adams's severed head at his feet, took a few deep breaths, and then ordered his men to count the heads. Seventeen more men had lost their lives, most of them perishing in the first wave of combat.

Alfonso walked up to Todd and bowed respectfully to the priest: "I owe you a favor, both personally and professionally..." Todd was about to say something when he was suddenly interrupted by a voice from the city wall.

"Oh my god! The North! The North!"

The soldier on the sentry post pointed towards the mountains, trembling and unable to speak coherently.

The two knights exchanged a glance, picked up their weapons, and ran up the stone steps to the city wall. The first glimpse they saw to the north chilled them to the bone!

Torches, countless torches!

Winding along the foothills in the darkness, the direction of our journey is right at the fortress beneath our feet!

Wilder's facial muscles twitched a few times, and suddenly he remembered something. He shouted frantically at the stunned sentries, "Sound the bell! Damn it! Ring the bell now! The barbarians from the north have invaded!" The urgent bell tolled throughout the Watchtower. The soldiers, who had just recovered from the battle, picked up their weapons, put on their armor, and hurriedly ran up the city walls to find their respective positions.

Alfonso looked at the garrison troops taking their positions, his eyes filled with worry.

The number of soldiers is too small... The fortress should have been defended by around 225 men, but it seems they can't even muster 120. There are many gaps in the walls, leaving them undefended.

Seeing his old friend's worry, the easygoing Wilder showed no concern whatsoever. He patted the other man on the shoulder, gesturing for him to look at the drawbridge facing north from the castle.

“This castle is built on a cliff, the only road connecting the north and the south. Look there, do you see it?” Wilder pointed to the huge ravine in front of the drawbridge: “There’s a natural canyon there, with a bottomless abyss below. As long as the drawbridge isn’t lowered, no matter how many barbarians come, they can’t get in!”

boom!

Before the smug smile had faded from the bearded man's face, a deafening metallic clang came from the top of the fortress, causing everyone to involuntarily close their eyes and cover their ears.

Because of the excessive noise, Alfonso could only yell at Wilder, "What's going on?!"

The other person looked at the source of the sound—the winch room above the suspension bridge—his face turned ashen, and his lips trembled: "Someone is sabotaging the winch of the suspension bridge!"

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