Time Air Conditioner

The baron family soldiers who attacked the village were even worse.After they were beaten up, let alone they were treated, they were even hopeful to get up.The reason is simple. Through the flight ladder, mercenaries and sergeants continue to climb up the city; this group of regular soldiers are full of murder and seizures, and they can't see their groaning companions. They will step on their boots without hesitation. .

The bloody fighting made little Albert gradually lose the courage to watch the battle.He hid in the hiding place, the short sword had already retracted its sheath, and he didn't even dare to breathe.The burning smell permeating the fire, mixed with the bloody smell floating on the wall, made his stomach twitch, and the pain near his temple was also piercing, almost to be broken by the shouts of both sides.

A long, long time ago, the young Albert stopped talking.The gentle shooting has ended, and the soldiers who have fallen into hand-to-hand combat have only the enemy that must be killed in their eyes, and they don't care about an 11-year-old child.They chopped and chopped, they wrestled, they screamed and fell to the ground with their broken knees, forcing little Albert to close his eyes and plug his ears, doing nothing but praying wildly.

[The scene of the severed hand spraying black plasma and being bounced under the wall by the shield is enough to watch once.Let us win, the one above, let us win!I don't want to be in hell anymore, I don't want to be in hell anymore, let us win and escape from this hell slaughterhouse!

The more he prayed, the more irritable he became, and his mood became worse.Obviously blocked the ears, but the sound of the heartbeat did not overwhelm everything. The screams and battle roars penetrated through the masonry stones, and slammed the back viciously like a whip; tightly closed the eyes, although it can temporarily isolate the battlefield, but The senses of touch, smell, and taste have become more acute as a result, sending back dangerous information continuously.

Little Albert smelled the hatred flowing in the air, tasted the anger flowing above the blade, and at the same time noticed the weird tactile sensation of hot first and then cold when blood splashed on the skin.He wanted to scream, he wanted to run away, he pinched himself fiercely, but the pain became more and more real, cruelly indicating that this place was not a dream.

[I should—what should I do?

Little Albert touched the bruise on his arm, not knowing how many times he asked himself this question.Just as he was thinking hard, the sound of footsteps suddenly sounded around him, accompanied by a gust of wind, urgent and short, causing him to curl up involuntarily.

[They are going down.That is not the reinforcements sent by the village master, but the wounded number sent to the square.How many times is it?How many times is this?How long have I been hiding here?How long have I been doing nothing?Think about what to do, think about what to do, Albert Lumont!

He was very angry with himself, trying to stand up and do what he could for the militia.However, the courage finally failed to defeat the self-preservation instinct. The Lumeng family's youngest son, although gritted his teeth and struggled several times, still failed to get out of the hiding place.In the end, he could only hit the stones with his fists while cursing himself bloody. Amidst self-blame, gratefulness and shame, he continued to suffer minute after minute.

It may be an hour later.It may be a whole day.The clanging sound of the intersecting blades finally subsided.At first, the young Albert thought he was asleep and dreaming, but the words on the wall became more and more louder and louder, and soon shattered the unlucky consciousness, bringing hope and joy into his heart again:

"Chasing! Brothers, chasing!!"

"Kill these bastards! Kill all the people on the ground!!"

"Don't worry, don't worry about the probe-son of a bitch, poke with a spear, poke with a spear, poke a ladder with a spear!"

...

The people who are talking are all in local dialect.There are only a few short swear words left in the crude and unsound English, and they are getting farther and farther away.[In other words, the militiamen recaptured the wall and kicked the baron's mercenaries back.We won, we really won!

Little Albert opened his eyes with joy, but was taken aback by the blood-red vision.But he immediately realized that this was just because he was leaning against the wall, and the sun suddenly flooded his eyes.It was not Kotweimel that was bleeding the scull, but the baron’s family soldiers who were indifferent. They were beaten up by the militiamen and ran down the wooden flying ladder in a hurry; they retreated hurriedly amidst the scolding of the militiamen, Some people even lost their weapons, no longer the arrogance they had when they first came.

"You--I--" Little Albert stood up excitedly, grabbed the base of the lookout building, and pulled himself back to the wall.He looked at the wall in front of him, looked at the large areas of semi-coagulated blood stains, looked at the corpse lying on the ground, suddenly his throat struck, and tears almost burst from his eyes:

"You won. We won. We won!!!"

A sword and shield in a cloth visor turned his head, opened his face, and gave little Albert a weary smile.The two fire fighters, who may be brothers, waved to the Lu Meng family at the same time.These few people have time to rest and their physical strength is still quite sufficient, but most of the other militiamen have no time to congratulate.

They have work to do.Piles of work.The Great Paul took a look here, said hurriedly, "Beware of the arrow," then turned his head.He was making up for the mercenaries on the ground, swinging the mace repeatedly, and smashing the opponent's head with the helmet.

Blood splattered and spread all over a crossbowman.But he turned a blind eye to this, still sitting under the half-flank, struggling to help his comrades wrap the bandage.Although he bandaged very carefully, the blood continued to seep from the shoulder of the militia soldier, slowly flowing into the gap between the rocks.

A few feet away from the two of them, three short spearmen were using their weapons as levers to pry the ladder grappling hooks.In order to avoid and exert force, their postures are very awkward, all of them are bent over and hunched; the pool of blood under their feet has caused great obstacles to work. Boots will slip from time to time, splashing with blood, minced meat, and plasma. Composition of "mud waves"."Get away!" The leading short spearman, while struggling to adjust his balance, yelled at the wall under the wall:

"Quickly crawl away! Kill the traitor of your mother X and clean your father X from the plague!"

No one answered the baron family soldiers outside the wall.They were rushing away on the open ground, as if chasing a demon behind their buttocks.The longbowman who was guarding behind the temporary fortifications only returned two arrows softly.These shots were as weak as an old man peeing, not to mention the battlements, even the trenches were not reachable.