Chapter 131: Inevitable Death
Everyone eventually dies, though no one ever thinks it comes too soon!
Most of the cart pushers had little to no archery skills.
Adam Smith didn't have high expectations for them either—just pull the bow to its fullest and shoot the arrows.
With enemies charging in densely, they were bound to hit something, just like the bandits before them.
Although the scattered rain of arrows didn't maximize its killing potential, these were still military-grade weapons.
The sharp and sturdy arrowheads fell and completed their mission.
Over a dozen bandits screamed as they fell to the ground. Even though they raised their shields, the iron-forged arrowheads were strong enough to pierce through the wooden shields.
Some bandits, even with arrows stuck in their bodies, continued to sprint forward.
The bandits weren't stupid; the slower they ran, the more dangerous it became!
Without caring about the killing effect, Adam Smith kept shouting:
"First row fall back, second row step forward, draw, shoot!"
The first row of uneasy cart pushers retreated while the second row, visibly more relaxed, mimicked them, drawing their bows and shooting.
After they shot their arrows, Adam Smith called the first row back up.
He didn't care too much about the effectiveness of the shooting; he just wanted the cart pushers to see some blood!
If they survived, they'd be seasoned soldiers in the next battle.
Round after round of arrow volleys fell, and after only four volleys from each row, the bandits had already charged through.
Even though the cart pushers' archery coordination was sloppy, nearly 2,000 arrows had been fired, striking the bandits solidly.
The ferocious bandits suffered heavy losses.
Over 50 bandits fell, and more than 70 were injured.
Including the five volleys from the 28 crossbows, the bandits' combat power had been reduced by nearly 200.
The remaining bandits, with bloodshot eyes, continued their charge.
Without time to think, Adam Smith decisively issued the combat orders:
"Cart pushers, fall back, follow shooting instructions, shoot at an upward angle!"
The cart pushers, feeling like they were pardoned, quickly retreated from the walls.
"Shield-bearers, spearmen, get on the walls!"
"Clay golems, activate combat mode!"
As soon as the words were spoken, the numerous bandits reached the walls.
Facing a four-meter-tall wall, the bandits were stunned.
They couldn't believe that earlier in the morning, when they passed by, this was just an unremarkable little hill.
In just a few hours, a towering wall had sprung up.
But that wasn't the full extent of their troubles!
Except for the 50-meter slope connecting to the road, the other areas at the base of the hill were filled with soft, swampy mud.
If someone stepped in, they'd likely sink in unless they quickly pulled themselves out.
So, the bandits could only attack from the front.
Arrows continued to rain down, striking the bandits who were packed together, creating immense pressure on them.
The cart pushers, who had retreated to the center of the hill, only needed to pull their bows and shoot at the designated angle.
This made things easier for them but constantly reminded the bandits!
They had to attack quickly!
Fortunately, the bandits weren't unprepared.
Several rogue bandits pulled ropes with iron hooks from their packs, swung them twice, and tossed them upwards.
The shiny and sturdy hooks caught on the edge of the wall, and the rogues quickly began climbing the ropes.
As they climbed, they threw daggers or knives to prevent anyone from showing their head and cutting the ropes.
The remaining bandits didn't stand idle either, furiously hacking away at the wooden barricades, trying to break them into pieces.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The sound of metal clashing stunned the bandits.
The shocking force from the sword's impact made their wrists tingle with numbness.
Upon closer inspection, they saw that their swords had barely left shallow cuts on the dark wooden wall—there wasn't even much splintering.
"This is ironwood!"
"The entire wall is made of ironwood!"
"Impossible, a single piece of ironwood, five fingers wide and two meters long, costs a whole gold coin..."
"If the whole wall is ironwood, it must be worth tens of thousands of gold coins!"
"I don't believe it either, but it's right in front of us now!"
"Stop thinking about hacking it down, climb up the ropes!"
"Hurry up and push forward, they're still shooting arrows from above!"
"..."
The bandits, though shocked by the Thorn Merchant Caravan's extravagance, grumbled as they prepared to climb.
At that moment, a violent tremor came from the walls.
Along with it came the piercing screams of their rogue companions and the faint sound of bones breaking.
Bodies, like ragdolls, were flung down violently, landing heavily in front of them.
The mangled corpses, twisted into horrifying shapes like broken pretzels, revealed the terrifying strength of the attackers.
Almost all the rogues who had climbed up were thrown down in misery, with only a few of the stronger rogues barely hanging on as they struggled to survive.
The other bandits were startled, and from the rear, one of them spotted towering figures and shouted:
"Clay golems! Twenty of them!"
Faced with death either by arrows or climbing, the bandits found themselves in a dire predicament. In the end, they couldn't bear being passively shot at, so they gritted their teeth and began climbing.
The strongest bandit leader, Beverly, stepped up and showed his leadership.
He grabbed a rope, braced himself against the wall, and hauled himself up with a powerful pull.
As soon as he made it to the wall, a dull whooshing sound came straight at him—an enormous fist.
The blow was massive and powerful!
Beverly didn't take it head-on; he rolled on the ground, bringing his greatsword upward as he moved.
Crack! Crack!
Clay shards flew off as the massive clay golem's body was forced to retreat a step.
Beverly pressed his advantage, slashing his greatsword, hitting the clay golem's leg.
He crouched slightly to avoid a heavy strike from the golem and gathered his strength, gripping his sword with both hands, and stabbed toward the golem's chest.
Bang!
Crash!
The thick and sturdy clay golem was actually pierced right through by him!
Ignoring the severely damaged golem, which was still shakily raising its arms to try and grab him,
Crack!
Beverly's sword struck the golem's neck, and with a powerful burst of force, he chopped its head off.
The tall body fell heavily backward, collapsing into pieces with a loud crash.
Beverly exhaled slightly but didn't continue charging; instead, he held the line, waiting for his companions to climb up.
Within a dozen breaths, seven or eight fearless bandits, with Beverly covering them, made it onto the wall.
Soon, under Beverly's leadership, they pushed forward, forcing their way through the shield-bearing soldiers, carving out a foothold.
Soldiers and bandits fell one after another, their blood soaking the ground and mixing with the stench of the foggy swamp.
Death is fair!
It descends swiftly and decisively!