When Sean received the news that the enemy had come out of the Bastille Castle, he relaxed instead.

The most dangerous arrow is always an arrow that has not been shot. Once it is left the string, the threat will drop significantly.

Old Borton's style of conduct was not beyond Sean's prediction. The Bastille Neiburg was their focus of defense. The two sides fought fiercely at the Bastille Neiburg gate, and hundreds of people surrounded the narrow space.

The sound of killing shook the sky. Every time the weapon was swung, flesh and blood were flying everywhere, and every time it was the most direct collision between the body and the armor.

The fire was released by Old Bodon, but he didn't expect that Sean insidiously applied tung oil to the flammable material. He originally wanted to ignite one or two buildings as a signal for coordinated combat, but as a result, he ignited the entire inner castle and turned himself into a prisoner in the fire.

It’s not that Bolton doesn’t want to retreat, but no one will build the secret passage as spacious as the road. The narrow space only allows one or two fully armed soldiers to pass by. There is a large group of uninformed soldiers behind it. If it surging back here, the consequences can be imagined.

Old Bodon was decisive and rushed to the inner castle gate with his soldiers. As long as he mastered the place, there would be some fighting in this battle.

As the key suspect in the inner castle of Bastille, in addition to placing traps with tung oil on flammable materials, two skull-breaking legion guards were also arranged at the inner castle gate, and they were on duty for 24 hours a day. The order they received was to guard the city gate, whether it was people outside who wanted to go in or people inside who wanted to go out.

Personal martial arts are no longer important. Even if your skills are superb, you can either either an enemy or a comrade in your hands when you turn around and you can't use them at all.

At this time, we are competing for whose weapons are sharper, whose armor is stronger, and whose will is stronger.

In terms of weapons, the two are almost the same, both are produced in Bastille. The only difference is the type difference. On the one hand, the most are half-handed swords, and on the other hand, the most are heavy weapons.

It is hard to say who takes advantage of it. Both are weapons that can be very close. In such occasions, they cannot be swung together, so how can they talk about power? In the end, both sides drew short spare weapons to fight, but the results were very little.

Because on one side is a plate armor with excellent forging, and on the other side is a heavy infantry wearing three layers of armor. Even if these short weapons are dull, they will have no choice but to kill the opponent. If you want to kill the opponent, you must tear off the opponent's defense first.

At this point, the skull-breaking soldiers have the advantage. They are tall and powerful, and they are condescending and grab the enemy's helmet one by one. Once the helmet is pulled off, the person will basically be sentenced to death, and it will be a matter of death one minute earlier and a minute later.

The Bastille soldiers soon learned to be smart, and arched their bodies into the arms of the skull-breaking soldiers, and drilled into the gaps in their arms. Once they could not stand, the moment they fell down was the moment they had a sword sealed their throat.

The fierce battle lasted less than half an hourglass, and thick blood flowed like a stream, almost covering her feet. The Bastille soldiers led by Old Borton had become dyingly struggling.

Because the Andes side was shocked but not confused, under the coordination and command of Sean and the Young Army, the skull-breaking soldiers stationed in other locations were coming continuously. They did not blindly join the battle. The space was too small, and it would be useless to invest more people to fight the situation.

They re-established their troops outside the inner castle, with the Skull-Breaking Army in front, and the Young Army and the Affiliated Engineer Corps behind. They all unified Andes' longbows, and the hundred-man guards crowded together like sardines were also withdrawing from the battlefield one after another.

Under the urging of his commanders, the Bastille soldiers were also reassembling and preparing to make their final struggle.

"Who is Sean? Don? Augustine? Come out and speak."

The reassembled Bastille soldiers cracked a gap, and the old Bodon, wearing silver plate armor, walked out in a dragon and tiger-like manner. The long sword and blood on the armor told the world that they were not pure decorations, and shouted to the outside, "You won't even have the courage to talk to an old man head-on!"

"Don't go!" Marshall pulled Sean's arm, "It's just an old trapped beast. There's no need to talk nonsense to him. Just order the arrow to be fired."

"It's okay." Sean smiled, "I really want to know why he still wants to see me at this time."

In fact, Sean was also curious about what this demon, who had harmed Andys Mountain people for more than 30 years and made countless Andys people grit their teeth in hatred, looked like. He had heard the other party's name thousands of times, but he had never met him.

"Be careful, there is no big mistake." Although Marshall did not stop Sean again, he let four skull-breaking soldiers holding tower shields follow him inseparably.

What they held was not so much a tower shield as a result of four cast iron plates. The four soldiers were also carefully selected strongmen, and they could definitely be selected as grassroots officers in the Skull Broken Legion.

It was specially arranged by McGee, the skull-breaker, who was specially arranged by Sean. Since attacking Bastille, in McGee's eyes, Sean's value has doubled, so of course he has to be protected as a treasure.

Sean did not refuse, and he had already removed the coolness from his life dictionary to satisfy his curiosity and to ensure his safety.

Botton's appearance disappointed Sean. He was neither the kind of vulgar face that was disgusting at first glance, nor the heroic appearance of heroism. He was just an ordinary Byron who could not be more ordinary.

After taking off the dazzling armor and throwing it into the crowd, I couldn't pick it up at all, which once again confirmed that there was a huge gap between reality and imagination.

While Sean looked at Bolton, Bolton was also examining the young man who had forced himself into a dead end in just half a month.

young.

This was Bolton's first impression. Although he had heard this evaluation more than just one person's mouth, he was still shocked by the other person's age, which made him feel this way.

It’s not that Sean is really young, there are many people like him who start a family and start a career. Many younger than him are already veterans who have been through the battlefield. Instead, Sean’s record during this period is too brilliant, which many people cannot do in their entire lives, so there is a strong psychological contrast.

Mature.

This maturity has nothing to do with age, but is revealed from his words, deeds and eyes. If he put aside the other side and just from his eyes, Old Botton felt that he was facing an old fox who had become a spirit.

He read this correctly. He counted on his fingers and said that Sean's combined age in his two lives was not younger than him.

"I'm Sean."

"Younger than I expected."

"Thank you! I think some things have nothing to do with age. The city lord asked me to come out, just to see what my enemies look like!"

"I really think so! Isn't that possible? When I go to heaven, I don't know who sent me, so I'm very embarrassed."

"Do you think you can still go to heaven?"

"Why can't I go to heaven? Is it because I built the Bastille? Slave trade? Don't forget that we are enemies."

"Do you know what happened thirty years ago? Do you know what we call the Andes people? Human locusts, they are a group of locusts. Every time the harvest season comes, they rush out of the mountains in groups, rob the fruits we have worked hard to plant in a year, kill all the men, and capture women and children."

"I witnessed my parents, brothers, and brothers tragically die in their hands, and our manor turned into a pile of ashes. From that day on, I swear to take revenge. I want those locusts to never get out of the mountains, even if they bet on my life, I will do whatever I can."

Old Borton's face was filled with a strong and indelible hatred. His body was filled with a soul that was completely distorted by hatred. Facing such a person, Sean had nothing to say. Judging from his posture, Old Borton was not ready to listen to what he said.

"Do you think I can really own this city if I defeat it? It's a big mistake. It won't take long for the iron cavalry of the Feren family to step on here. At that time, you will face the most terrifying army led by the Manyu army. Just by your mobs, you can only return to the mountains to your life."

"Are you considered a provocation?" Sean asked with some uncertainty, was Old Borton crazy?

When he spoke, he had a hammer and a hammer. The last few words finally came to light. This old man wanted to dig a hole for himself when he was about to come, and wanted to have a fight with the Iron Cavalry of the Feren family. However, his level was too low, and he could deal with a stubborn guy like McGee.

"Why are you afraid?" Old Borton performed very happily. "There are many people like me, and you Andes people will never think of turning over."

"We have the final say whether the Andes can turn over. It's not that you have the final say. Even if there is really one day, you won't see it! The murderer is the murderer, and it will not change because of the justice you proclaim. You can't get up to heaven! Shoot the arrow!"

Sean felt that he would not find any common language with a complete racist avenger, and ended the conversation cleanly, ending early and going back to bed early is the main thing.

When hundreds of Andys' longbow heavy arrows were shot down, the war could come to an end in advance. As for these Andys' longbow heavy arrows, they were a small part of the intercepted by Sean in advance, and were only enough to equip a hundred-man guard to deal with the emergencies in front of him.

Andys' longbow heavy arrows have significantly worse effect on plate armor. They are no longer invincible with chain mail and scale armor, but they cannot withstand the number.

When more than two thousand heavy arrows were smashed, some bad guys were always hit by the key defense, and the Bastille soldiers who had just formed were killed or injured.

Unfortunately, he did not leave Old Borton behind, and he returned to the inner castle again.

When he found him again, his face was burning and he was left with only the armor that showed his identity.

As for whether the charred corpse was Old Borton himself, it was no longer important. As long as the bull Erikson outside the city and his thousands of soldiers recognized it, it would be true. When they put down their weapons and surrendered on their knees, it means that Old Borton has completely become the past tense of Bastille.
Chapter completed!