Game of Thrones: I Created the Magic Web

Chapter 211: A Blade in the Dark

This was the eastern edge of Ten Stone Town.

Amidst the previous chaos, Jon Fossoway had concentrated all the forces he could still control in this temporarily peaceful area.

This was the limit of what he could do.

Time was too tight.

Enemy cavalry attacked from the northern and southern camps, and from across the river to the west, breaking through the two outer defenses almost unhindered.

Ten Stone Town was not large enough to slow down the cavalry's advance.

Everyone who had been awakened saw the destruction and slaughter taking place not far away, and understood that this scene was about to spread into the town.

Ten Stone Town was just an ordinary town.

Apart from the small castle in the center of the town, what could stop the cavalry's trampling?

And the defenses set up outside the town had already been breached.

The threat of death was so intense and sudden.

If it weren't for the bright lights shot into the sky by the enemy, dispelling the terrifying unknown darkness, the huge army would probably have mutinied directly, scattering and fleeing.

But it was not far from collapse.

Jon Fossoway recognized this, so he decisively abandoned the narrow castle and came into the dense crowd, trying to regain control of this chaotic army.

Only in this way could he truly find a glimmer of hope.

After all, there were twenty thousand people.

At this time, many people had already spontaneously run to safe places, or places they thought were safe—the east side of town.

Jon Fossoway took advantage of the situation to gather troops here.

Although the low houses and winding dirt roads in the town could not delay the enemy for too long, at this critical moment of life and death, even a breath's worth of time was precious and worth fighting for.

The enemy's shouts and images filled the entire sky.

Jon Fossoway ordered all horns to be blown and all messengers to be sent out.

This was both to interfere with the enemy's shouts and surrender pleas, to alleviate anxiety and hesitation, and to tell the army: the troops engaging the enemy should resist on the spot, and those not yet in battle should immediately move east to join the defense.

Jon Fossoway did not know the effect of the first order.

But the second order quickly took effect.

Countless soldiers poured in from the west, north, and south, in twos and threes, or in small squads, with disorganized formations.

The preliminary military formation was almost broken up again by these people.

Fortunately, the enemy did not arrive at this time.

So the military formation opened a gap to allow the panicked "reinforcements" to run to the rear, so they could rest and prepare.

It had to be so.

These newcomers looked like a group of deserters.

Their armor was messy, their expressions were panicked, and some didn't even bring weapons.

Where had the officers gone?! How could they fight in this situation?!

Jon Fossoway couldn't help but look gloomy.

Fortunately, there was an armory set up on the east side.

The quartermaster quickly led a group of relatively stable soldiers to maintain order, and rapidly distributed swords and bows to the people.

The cavalry charged over.

Fortunately, several thousand soldiers had reorganized and were standing on the front line.

Jon Fossoway immediately ordered the military formation to defend and counterattack, while also telling the stragglers in the rear to speed up and be ready to support at any time.

The terrain was relatively favorable.

Jon Fossoway secretly comforted himself.

The roads in Ten Stone Town were narrow and winding, and large cavalry units could not deploy at all.

Instead, infantry formations could exert their power better.

Moreover, they had the advantage in numbers.

Now, at least fifteen thousand people were concentrated here, while the attacking cavalry numbered at most a few thousand.

Even with those…

Jon Fossoway looked into the distance behind him.

The light illuminated a large area, allowing him to see the scene on the hill to the east of the town.

Several thousand cavalrymen were lined up in three lines, without any movement.

Further back were hundreds of small black dots, and the light in the sky was emitted from these things.

If it was just this kind of ability, there was still hope.

Twenty thousand against one thousand.

Threats came from all directions, and they must not retreat rashly.

Jon Fossoway pondered silently.

They must resist the impact of these few thousand cavalry and delay for time.

As everyone knew, horses would tire faster than people.

Similarly, there were still at least several thousand people outside the town who could fight.

Time would allow them to calm down a lot, and regain some courage and loyalty.

Swords were by their sides, as long as they saw the hope of victory.

But the enemy suddenly stopped, leaving only a few hundred people to continue forward, looking almost suicidal.

But then those things happened.

Now…

"Surrender and you will not be killed!"

"Blackfish" was charging at the front with the Holy War Army.

Under the blessing of the declarations in the sky, the cavalry on horseback broke through the first shield wall and spear formation without encountering much resistance.

These soldiers had generally lost their fighting spirit.

But the stragglers in the rear had initially recovered their combat power, and had not seen the power of the Holy Shield.

The officers issued strict orders.

Amidst the chaos and confusion.

Many soldiers pointed their weapons at the cavalry in front and drew their bows.

The cannons were turned around.

Bang!

Bang! Bang…

Solid iron balls plowed cruel wounds in the military formation, and scarlet minced meat and pale broken bones were clearly visible under the light.

The exploding bombs were even more frightening.

With a loud bang, steel fragments flew in all directions like startled birds, passing through armor and flesh, until they were deeply embedded in the soil and rocks.

Within the white mist was a complete dead zone.

The vibration and impact shattered people's internal organs, blood oozed from their mouths and noses, and the high temperature roasted the silent or wailing flesh, brewing a disgusting smell, causing countless living people to kneel and vomit.

The cannons only fired one volley.

All the soldiers put down their weapons, even the strict officers they usually feared the most stood beside them, with extremely terrifying expressions.

The officers themselves had lost their direction.

Everyone looked at Sir Jon Fossoway, who was commanding from a high place…

The soil was as moist as after a sunny rain, and the air was as warm as a midsummer afternoon.

The cavalrymen strolled leisurely among countless soldiers, and no one dared to resist.

Once again, the "candle" in the sky fell and went out.

The deep unknown darkness always made people uneasy, especially this time, with the addition of unknown noises and short shouts.

Whoosh—

Light returned.

Countless people looked terrified, their eyes dull.

They saw blood.

"No!!" Karyl Vance shouted angrily, his eyes bloodshot.

He rolled off his horse and ran towards the corpse in the pool of blood.

An ordinary dagger was inserted into the corpse's neck.

That was his father, Lord Vance of Wayfarer's Rest!

He was not the only one exclaiming and wailing.

House Piper, House Bracken, House Mooton…

"Who pretended to surrender and secretly attacked!?" Ser Alan Mooton of the Kingsguard's voice trembled, "Who killed my brother!? If there is any honor left, stand up immediately! I will duel you one-on-one!"

Alan Mooton gripped his longsword tightly, scrutinizing every Reachman soldier with suspicious and resentful eyes.

The cavalry became restless.

"Blackfish" frowned deeply and ordered everyone not to move rashly.

The "candle" went out again.

Subtle sounds rose and fell in the darkness, the smell of blood spread rapidly, and life dissipated unnoticed.

The next time the light came, few of the Reach knights were left.

There were also casualties on our side.

"Blackfish" was horrified and immediately shouted: "Take the prisoners! The battle is over!!"

The light did not disappear again.

The battlefield returned to calm.

Looking at the surviving Jon Fossoway, Littlefinger sighed silently.

Be glad that your wife is Janna Tyrell, and that she does not possess the ambition of men.

All targets eliminated.

He submitted the task.

Many Holy War Army soldiers paused in their tracks.

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