"Old Borton not only took action himself, but also brought out his own number one general, Eriksen. Whether it is a marching or a camp, it is very well organized. Whether it is an ambush or a night attack, we are afraid that it will be difficult for us to get a advantage. If we only win, we have no way to talk about the next step, and it will be of little significance. I don't think both of you want to see such a situation." Sean explained patiently. After all, these two are their own allies rather than their subordinates. It is a loss to change their plans without hiding them.

"As long as we eliminate the scourge of Old Borton, it is worth it even if we are all here." Skull Brokener McGee said with red eyes.

"When did you go out to scout?" The scavenger Clayton was obviously different from McGee's. They were almost inseparable these days, and Sean had never acted alone.

"The night before yesterday, we were only separated from Old Borton by a ridge. I had gone out four hourglass in the second half of the night." Sean said seriously, "The reason why I didn't tell you that I changed my plan without authorization is that I was afraid that you would be blinded by hatred. Old Borton was just a minor injury. The Bastille was the real cancer. If the old Borton was killed, it would not take long for other Bortons to emerge. If the supreme ruler of the Manyu army joined in, we would have no better life. If the Bastille was uprooted, it would be equivalent to directly breaking Old Borton's retreat. The other party could only turn around and fight with us. Then let him taste how solid the castle he built was, and why not do it."

"The plan sounds perfect." Clayton said in a strange shadow, "but it is too ideal. The Bastille is known as the defender of 8,000. Even if Old Borton took away the three most elite, there are still five thousand left? Not to mention five thousand, even if it is one thousand, we can't bite this hard bone, right? When the time comes, Old Borton will come back to fight, and we will become a sandwich bread."

"If it's a strong attack, let alone us, even if we have ten times more people, we must be prepared to break a few teeth if we want to chew Bastille." Sean didn't care. If Clayton didn't ask any questions, it would be a real mistake. "If it was an unexpected surprise, especially a night attack, the success rate would be greatly improved. The eight thousand defenders of Bastille were even included in the slaves driven by them. If it was in its heyday, these people would naturally not have any intentions, but now Bastille is at its weakest time. We only need to destroy the remaining regular troops in Bastille, and those slaves will surrender without fighting."

"It's still a bit dangerous." Scavenger Barreton muttered, agreeing with Sean's plan.

After all, the feasibility is not low, and it brings all hunter archers. Even if Sean is incorporated, at most it will shoot arrows from a distance. The one who really charges in the battle is McGee. He made up his mind that if something is wrong, he will immediately take his own people to retreat and never continue to get involved.

Sean, a kid, had a very good brain, and he obviously couldn't keep up with his ideas. He didn't know if he was accidentally cheated. He was able to play happily together in the past because Sean did not show any ambition, but this time the other party was obviously different from the past.

"Don't do it, I'm still saying the same thing. That old bastard Borton is mine." Skull-breaker McGee slapped his thigh heavily, giving Sean sufficient trust. This trust naturally did not form overnight.

If it is true, there is a certain blood relationship between the two. Sean's grandmother was born in Shangshui Village, and her mother Elena and McGee's father were also old acquaintances, and she saved McGee's life twice.

Including the time when Shaun saved him, in McGee's own words, even if this kindness is not clear in this life, even if Shaun takes him into the fire pit, he will not hesitate, let alone Sean has never let him suffer any losses. Shangshuizhai has been getting better and better in recent years, and Sean and his son have made great contributions.

...

Klester suddenly sat up from the bed, sweating profusely and gasping for breath. After a while, the focal length of his eyes regained.

He had a nightmare again. It was the fifth day. On the night when Old Borton led his troops out of the city, he slept a little uneasy. He always felt that something had been missed, but he couldn't remember it.

Since then, he has been plagued by nightmares. He has no impression of what he dreamed of. He only feels very creepy and terrifying. He always has the illusion that his soul will be dragged into the abyss.

Klester couldn't help but tighten the Holy Aether Cross in his hand, wanting to draw a little help from it.

However, judging from the above traces, the Holy Aether cross was made for no more than three days, and the prayers were also stuttering.

It is really unknown whether the Lord of Truth will give him shelter for such a believer who burns incense only when he has something to do.

The anxiety was particularly serious tonight. After praying three times in a row, Kleist not only did not calm down, but became more anxious. Even the maid in the outer room woke up and wanted to come in to serve, but was scolded by him.

"Can something happened to the city lord and the others?" The weird fox Christ murmured in his heart.

This is the only thing that has made me worry about in the past few days, but as soon as this thought arose, he extinguished it.

The old Borton took out the most elite troops in Bastille. They were all veterans who had seen blood and served for less than five years. Professional soldiers who were proficient in mountain combat. They only trained all day long.

The entire Manyu army leader, the direct lineage of the Duke of Feren, could exceed this level. The remaining border troops in each military fort or local defenders in major cities are not considered professional soldiers. At most, they are military farming soldiers and recruiting soldiers. They are farmers when they are idle, and they are soldiers when they are wary.

Old Borton and the bull Erikson are both knowledgeable about military affairs, especially the bull Erikson. They look honest and reckless on the outside, but in fact they are just a means to confuse people. There are all kinds of generals and knights. He has seen no one or eighty people, but none of them is as cautious as Erikson.

Especially the decades of prudence are even more admirable. This may be related to his gladiatorial origin. Only by being cautious can one get out of the flesh and blood mill alive.

The weird fox Klester put on his cloak and decided to go out and relax and take a few breaths of fresh air, which may be helpful to his insomnia.

As soon as he stepped out of the house, Klester regretted it a little. The cold wind outside was not a bit harsh, but it also brought a wet and damp swelling on his face, like a drizzle, which made people feel very uncomfortable.

This is what he criticized the most. He is equivalent to being at the vent of the Andes Mountains. There are all kinds of winds blowing for 421 days a year, and for 300 days.

Among them, the winds in autumn and winter are the most unbearable. Needless to mention the winds in winter, they are already cold and frozen. In addition, the mountain wind like a knife blows, and the whole person is in a bad mood.

The autumn wind makes people feel uncomfortable because the rain in the Andes Mountains is quite rainy in the Mid-Autumn Festival, and the mountain wind is filled with thick moisture, especially at night, which makes the temperature drop by seven or eight degrees out of thin air. If you blow it all night without any precaution, it will definitely be like a chicken falling into a soup the next day. If you are not careful, you will get seriously ill.

The weird fox Klester gritted his teeth and rushed out. Although he was a bit pampered in the past two years, his foundation as a regular knight is there, and he still has no time to eat for a year or two.

The personal guard followed up with a torch in a hurry. Christ's low humming made the personal guard almost kneel down on the spot. This master was a lenient person and strict discipline. His first few jobs fell to the ground because of a little insignificant negligence.

It was not until the other party strided towards the top of the city that the personal guard breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that he had escaped a disaster today. He must pay attention next time and would never be lazy and dozed off again when he was on night shift. If he fell into sleep for a while, he would suffer a loss to his grandma's house.

The weird fox Klester, who climbed the city wall, finally understood what he had missed. Where did his greatest uneasiness come from. Old Borton took away too many elite troops, but he was foolproof, but the Bastille turned into a huge sieve.

That's right, there are indeed more than a thousand elite soldiers in Bastille now, and there are nearly three thousand slave soldiers of various colors, but the area that needs to be defended is too large. The rotation day and night, at most three hundred elite soldiers are holding a thousand slave soldiers at night, and even fewer.

Because the very strict bull Erikson went out, these soldiers rarely found a chance to be lazy. Most of the night guards were sleeping in the arrow tower, covering their heads in the tower, leaving only one or two slave soldiers drowsy in the cold wind.

It would be fine if one or two people did this. Klester walked away seven or eight towers in a row, all of which were all of this kind of virtue. His whole body shook into a sieve in the cold wind, not because he was frozen, but because he was scared.

The defense of Bastille is ineffective at present. He only needs to give him three hundred elite soldiers who are proficient in climbing, and he can easily open the city gate of Bastille.

"Bang!Bang!Bang!"

"Enemy attack, enemy attack...uh..."

The sudden stop of gongs and sharp shouts, so harsh in the cold wind, made the weird fox Kleist feel like falling into an ice bank. Sometimes things are so inch-like, and I really fear what I am afraid of.

After a brief moment of being stunned, the weird fox Kleist kicked the squadron leader who was guarding the tower and roared, "Send a warning message quickly, there will be an enemy attack." After saying that, he ignored the squadron leader's reaction and ran to the city wall where the warning message had just been heard.

The squadron who could serve as the guard of a tower was also a trained veteran. After a brief period of confusion, he kicked his soldiers up while beating the police gong. At the same time, he looked out from the arrow in the hazy moonlight and took a breath of air conditioning.

There were countless figures climbing up like monkeys on the city wall. The seven or eight meters high city wall was useless. With the help of ropes, it jumped up in five or six seconds.

There were muffled groans and strange grunts coming from outside. He was not unfamiliar with this sound. It was the last sound in history that came from the human throat after it was cut open and blood flowed backwards near the throat and mouth.
Chapter completed!