The midday sun baked the walls of Willow Wood City, warming every stone brick.
Behind the battlements, a guard yawned. The midday sun made it hard for him to keep his eyes open, and a few tears squeezed out of the corners of his eyes.
Leaning against the wall, he complained to his companion, "Do you feel like the weather has been more unpredictable lately?
One moment it's cold, the next it's hot."
"And I really don't understand why Sir Gales wants us to strengthen our guard."
"It's all because of that Black Lion," his companion pouted, spitting, as if Arthur was right in front of him. "He defeated thousands of wildlings and became the talk of the Riverlands, bragging that he's going to attack."
"I heard he lives in the mountains. I bet he doesn't even dare to leave his cave."
"Exactly! A Knight title obtained by wiping the lord's shit! If it were given to me… I wouldn't even want it!" The guard laughed. The scene below the city made him even more lazy, and words fueled by jealousy and anger constantly spilled out. "Black Lion? I think he's a Black Rat!"
"Seriously! We're on guard every day! There's clearly no news! Even if they really are going to attack! It's impossible for them to come directly here!"
The city gate was wide open, and a crowd of commoners was jostling at the entrance.
There were farmers carrying hoes who wanted to enter the castle to sell their planted vegetables to the lord, merchants leading packhorses waiting for inspection to enter the city and sell their goods, and many villagers who, due to various disputes, were at the gate wanting to find the lord to arbitrate.
The crowd was chaotic, but everything was as usual—peaceful, even a bit dull.
In the line, a sharp-eyed farmer suddenly stopped complaining. He turned his head, rubbed his eyes, and looked towards the surging river that flowed down from the Brightmoon Mountains upstream. However, he rubbed his eyes hard again.
The river surface shimmered with sunlight, hazy and indistinct, but beyond that shimmering light, there seemed to be something large.
The farmer lowered his hand and walked in that direction, trying to see everything clearly.
"Look, what is that?" The farmer poked the person next to him, a bit doubtfully.
"What?" The person looked in the direction he pointed, only seeing a large dark shadow in the distance. "Probably wood. Logs cut from the mountains are floating down the river."
The farmer wanted to say something more, but just then, those distant dark shadows were getting closer and closer.
A strange gurgling sound escaped the farmer's throat. He wanted to scream but found he couldn't make any sound.
The impatience on the face of the person beside him instantly froze, transforming into pure horror.
"Ah!!!!!!"
A piercing shriek finally broke through the clamor at the city gate.
A young guard on the city wall was startled. He impatiently poked his head out, scolding these idiots: "What are you screaming about!!!"
"You fools! Do you want a whipping!!!!"
He had just become the lord's soldier, but he didn't expect to encounter such a thing. It was something that clearly couldn't happen, yet the weak Sir Gales had people on full-time guard duty every day.
But when his gaze fell upon the river, the color instantly drained from his face.
He saw the army emerging from the river.
The spear in his hand slipped, hitting the stone brick in front of him with a crisp sound.
The young guard felt his mouth open wide enough to fit an egg, and his legs involuntarily trembled like a sieve.
Why was there no news? This is impossible! How can this be!!!
"Enemy attack!!!!" His voice, distorted by fear, was as shrill as a chicken with its neck wrung. "Enemy attack!!!"
"There are enemies!!!!!"
The sluggish alarm bell finally rang, its hurried, chaotic tolls echoing over Willow Wood City as the soldiers ran and shouted.
The commoners at the city gate completely erupted into chaos.
"There's an army!!! There's an army!!"
"An army!! It's an army!! Coming from the river!!"
"Run!! Get into the city!!"
Cries and screams mingled together. The instinct for survival drove everyone to rush towards what they believed was the only safe place.
The crowd, like a startled flock of sheep, pushed, shoved, and trampled madly, completely blocking the already congested city gate passage.
A woman holding a child was pushed to the ground, and the child's cries were instantly drowned out by countless feet.
Arthur, standing on the leading raft, was overjoyed to see the city gate wide open, though he did not lose his composure. This exceeded his expectations; he had originally thought that upon reaching the city, he would only be able to lay siege and then guard against unforeseen circumstances.
He saw the chaos at the city gate, and he saw the drawbridge and iron gate that could not be lowered due to the congested crowd.
Arthur growled, "Damn it!"
This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for battle.
He suddenly drew the Myr longsword from his waist, its tip pointing directly at the chaotic city gate ahead: "Take the gate!!!"
"Take the gate!!!"
"Take the gate!!!!"
"Take the gate!!!!!!"
Arthur used all his strength, shouting faster and faster, his voice even becoming as shrill as an eagle's cry, instantly overpowering all the noise.
"Take the gate!!"
"Take the gate!!!"
The soldiers on the rafts roared in unison, their voices forming a torrent.
Just as Willow Wood City was about to be completely engulfed by chaos, a rapid sound of hooves came from within the city.
A Knight in full plate armor, holding a good sword and riding a tall warhorse, forcibly pushed his way through the chaotic crowd.
Behind him, more than thirty similarly armored elite soldiers were slashing at the crowded commoners, forcibly cutting a bloody path.
Sir Gales Legge, the younger brother of Lord Roger Legge of Willow Wood City, had a livid face and eyes spitting fire.
"Hold the gate!!" He let out a thundering roar, "Do not retreat a single step!!"
He knew very well that if the city gate fell, everything would be over.
"Archers!" Gales roared, "Shoot! Shoot those bastards dead in the water!"
The quickly reacting archers on the city wall swiftly began to draw their bows and shoot arrows. Only Arthur's peasant soldiers, dressed in cloth, were hit, falling off their rafts and into the river.
But Arthur paid no heed. This was a rare opportunity, and once missed, it would truly be gone. If they were to get bogged down in a siege, and the Legge Family's vassals began to mobilize for aid, then it would be troublesome.
"Ignore them!!!" Arthur cut down an arrow shot at him with a single sword stroke, then looked at the soldiers who were rescuing the fallen warriors and roared again, "Ignore them!!! Everyone!!! Take the gate!!!"
At this time, being busy saving people would only lead to more deaths. Arthur pulled up a soldier who was kneeling on a raft, trying to pull a fallen soldier out of the water, slapped him across the face, and then snarled through gritted teeth.
"Take the gate!!!!"
The soldiers jumped off the rafts one after another, the icy river water instantly submerging their knees.
They charged towards the shore, treading through the slippery, deep mud at the riverbed.
"Hold them!" Sir Gales spurred his warhorse, being the first to meet them.
The longsword in his hand unleashed a flash of white light. A peasant soldier, charging at the very front, didn't even have time to let out a scream before his head flew into the air.
Thirty well-equipped Legge Family soldiers rushed to the shore, forming a sparse but solid wall. Their longswords and shields mercilessly reaped the lives of the poorly equipped peasant soldiers who charged onto the riverbank.
Arthur's soldiers were, after all, merely mobilized farmers. Facing professional soldiers armed to the teeth, their farming tools could not inflict any damage and instead they were hacked, maimed, and killed by the enemy. Their courage began to waver.
The momentum of the charge was halted.
The arrows from the city wall began to fall more densely, and soldiers dressed in cloth continually fell, hit by arrows, struggling in agony in the shallows.
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