Chapter 339 Bloody Dawn

The urgent bugle calls were still sounding mournfully, and teams of soldiers filled the gaps. Those who had the strength to spare supported the wounded and moved towards the farther direction where the bugle calls were coming from.

The priest's chanting and the majestic rebuke when he cast his spell quickly calmed people's hearts, but anyone with a discerning eye could see that they were no match for the vampires.

Angelo's inspiring orders were enough to inspire even the most cowardly wartime citizens, but his voice could not be heard beyond one street; most people only heard the rapid marching sound of the charge.

From time to time, the sound of flutes would disappear amid the hustle and bustle of incantations, but the broken charge would soon be continued, only the tune was no longer consistent with that of the trumpeters in other directions, perhaps because they were not familiar with wind instruments.

No one would blame the chaos during war, not even Angro would care about it, because they were still moving forward.

Once again, dense artillery fire covered the city, and the disgusting sound of spells in the air became a little weaker. It was a pity that no one could see the vampires that were blown into charred flesh. Angelo dared to guarantee that they must be sleeping peacefully.

The gunners should be given more military pay, but the buglers should not be forgotten.

Look how well they play! At least the trumpeter next to Angro played all the way to the end, and he hasn't stopped yet, just like the sound of a cannon.

Things in the world are never as we wish. The sound of walls collapsing continuously came from the southwest. Angelo could already see monsters running at high speed in the darkness on the street ahead.

The terrifying sound of breaking through the air appeared in front of Angelo in the blink of an eye. It was an extremely strong black shadow.

It easily knocked away the halberds and soldiers on the front line, and with one slap it smashed the trumpeter in front of Angro into pieces. The bullets almost turned it into a sieve, but it was too strong.

Angelo seized the moment of its pause, thrust forward with his sword and pierced its throat, but inevitably took a heavy blow.

Fortunately, Sigmar favored his descendants, and the imperial general was only blown into the crowd by the monster's dying counterattack.

By the time Angelo was helped up, enduring the pain, the monster had already turned into ashes.

He picked up the instrument used to blow the charge bugle and tweaked it a bit to make sure it still made a sound.

The interrupted march in this block was played again, and it seemed that his skills were not rusty, at least he could keep up with the original tune.

Explosions and shouts of killing mixed into the bloody streets, the roars of monsters and the spells of vampires were the whispers of death.

Perhaps all the residents of Baker Harbor who were still alive joined the breakout. After half a day, Angelo could no longer see the familiar faces of his soldiers. Only the conscripted citizens with messy equipment were left around him.

The artillery fire from the military camp became increasingly sparse, until at one point, the continuous artillery fire suddenly stopped.

It seems that the gunners and guards who stayed in the barracks did not hold on to the end, but they did a good enough job - they blew up half of Beck Harbor. The Elector would definitely faint on the spot if he knew about it.

If the president of the Ostermark Alliance could still meet Angelo, he would definitely execute the general who issued the order to break out.

Angro would leave bodies for him to hold accountable whenever possible.

More and more people fell on the way to the port, and in the end they couldn't even form the first row of halberds to repel the enemy.

Angelo was a lucky man, he only lost an arm in the process and had half of his face torn off by the monster.

Fortunately, these injuries do not affect his current mission.

The one-arm limited Angro's fighting ability, but facing tens of thousands of undead, what was the point of him fighting bravely and desperately? It took at least a breath to kill a resurrected dead person. If he fought alone, even if Sigma prevented him from getting hurt, he would not be able to kill all the undead that were awakened until he died of old age.

The general tried hard to control his breathing and steady his breath to blow the charge bugle to boost morale. Not even the unbearable itching of the poison in his wounds could stop him from blowing, because this was the most important thing he could do.

Angelo and the music of the charge rushed to the port area. After crossing half of the city, the intermittent music was no longer the same as the original rhythm.

Probably because the original people are no longer around.

Unexpectedly, the fortresses near the port were still echoing with gunfire. This defensive measure used to guard against monsters in the river was ironically fighting against enemies from the heart of the city.

Tens of thousands of gunshots echoed each other, and the harsh noise seemed unusually beautiful at this moment.

The marching tune suddenly closed, and the two wings stopped expanding and collapsed inward as much as possible, gathering the last bit of their living strength together.

The sharp blade created by unity cut through the blockade of the undead, but the blockade of the undead was more than one circle.

All kinds of undead wrapped the breaking out army like pockets, and by the time they rushed to within a few hundred meters of the fortress, they could no longer move.

Angelo looked up at the inner wall of the city in front of him. The dark, scarred rock wall seemed sacred even at this close distance.

It was as if God had opened the light to them, but darkness blocked the light that was so close before their eyes.

The vampires' high-pitched spells were like their taunts. The remaining Morel priests suddenly died with blood gushing from all their orifices. A wild and cold wind sounded from the end of the sky. The chill from the soul made the music played by Angelo tremble.

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The war between spellcasters ended, which was not surprising, how could ordinary priests fight against ancient vampires.

Suddenly, there was a burst of intensive artillery fire from the direction of the mighty river, but even faster than the gunfire was an invisible, fierce wind.

The bloody torrent engulfed the warriors in the front in the blink of an eye. The unnatural force instantly crushed Angelo's soul and stopped his performance.

The world was floating up, and his remaining consciousness soon touched the ground.

The last sound he heard was the explosion rising into the sky, and the last scene he saw was the citizens who grabbed the charge and continued to move forward under the cover of artillery fire.

There were endless and countless undead creatures. At least Lynch couldn’t see the full scale of the undead.

There were too many dead bodies, which seemed a bit strange. It was as if some powerful necromancer had raised up the souls that had been sleeping here for thousands of years.

He only roughly predicted the direction of Baker Harbor, because he didn't know where Baker Harbor was at all. Ostermark Territory is a very large area.

As if he was receiving special care, there was always a vast sea of ​​undead in front of Lynch. He was sure that the local humans did not receive the same treatment.

Because there is a human village ahead with living people inside. If the undead attack continued like this, they would have all been killed long ago.

Maybe it was for psychological comfort. Even though ordinary skeletons were not an obstacle to Lynch, the blood descendants in the dark never stopped summoning him.

Lynch looked at the skeletons and zombies that fell in the sun before they got close to him, and couldn't help but look up to the back of the undead army, which instantly startled a flock of bats.

The bat disappeared from Lynch's sight in the blink of an eye.

(End of this chapter)