Volume II: The Iron and Blood Baron Chapter 153: The Defense of Norlandenburg (Part Twenty-Seven)

Although no casualties were caused, this thoroughly frightened Barrett. He hurriedly dispatched a subordinate to relay orders instructing Gamling and the others to be more careful and avoid shooting their own men.

Gamling had been keeping his eyes fixed on the trajectory of the falling arrows. Seeing that they were landing right on the heads of their own forces, he quickly ordered the fifty militia soldiers to cease fire. He was scared out of his wits—it would be the height of absurdity if their comrades were not killed by the enemy, but instead suffered friendly fire.

Once Gamling and his men stopped their volley, the elite pirate archers beneath the walls did not loose many more rounds either. They, too, were exhausted and had to take a break.

Archery is not merely a matter of skill; it is intensely physical work. Even elite archers cannot sustain a high rate of fire for long because the heavy combat bows require immense strength to draw each time. No matter how strong your arm is, without rest, you cannot continuously draw a heavy bow and shoot repeatedly.

Furthermore, the pirates' elite archers could no longer continue firing at this point because a large number of the invading pirates were already close to scaling the battlements. Continuing to shoot would only result in friendly fire.

After both sides halted their coordinated archer volleys, the ramparts of Nolandenburg descended into a bitter, chaotic melee. By this time, the prepared boiling excrement and foul liquid on the walls had been completely exhausted. After all, while the castle's occupants were quite capable of excreting, the quantity was ultimately limited, and even less was suitable for brewing that foul concoction.

Once their biological weapon was depleted, the defenders on the wall had to rely on stones, blades, and spears to beat back the pirates. Yet, despite holding the high ground, the defenders still found themselves somewhat outmatched when dealing with these fiercely skilled and combative pirates.

Nevertheless, thanks to Barrett's command and the relative numerical advantage at each battlement, they managed to keep the pirates' offensive momentum suppressed overall. Barrett himself moved constantly with half a dozen elite fighters, ready to reinforce any struggling group of defenders at a moment's notice.

At that moment, Gamling returned, bringing along a squad of militia soldiers. Although they could no longer draw their bows and shoot, coming forward to reinforce the frontline was well within their capability.

The addition of these twenty-odd fresh troops gave the front-line defenders a greater sense of confidence, rendering their counterattacks against the pirates even more ferocious, even though the javelins and throwing axes hurled by the pirates continued to claim the lives of the defenders.

Yet, having endured yesterday's fierce battle, the militia soldiers holding fast to the ramparts possessed a much stronger sense of confidence. Tempered by the flames of war, these fighters had become far more resolute and steadfast. No longer panicked as they had been during their initial clashes with the pirates, they grew calm and focused entirely on slaying the enemy, putting all other thoughts aside.

War changes people swiftly. Between life and death, witnessing cruel slaughter awakens one's survival instincts and hatred for the enemy, rapidly transforming a person. These farmers, who previously dared only slaughter chickens and ducks, were beginning to metamorphose after a single day of warfare. Though this transformation was not yet absolute, soldiers who had tasted blood were already entirely different from those who had not.

Barrett and Gamling felt a deep sense of relief as they looked at the militia soldiers, who were far less troublesome to manage than the day before. They harbored every confidence that, following the defense of Nolandenburg, while their militia might not become elite in the truest sense, they would at least compare favorably to the laxly drilled county troops—deserving to be called resolute, battle-hardened veterans capable of undertaking even weightier military campaigns.

Just as Barrett and Gamling assumed today's battle would mirror yesterday's—that the pirates, unable to stomach the casualties, would voluntarily withdraw—a major catastrophe struck at the fortress gate.

With a sudden, explosive bang, the gates of Nolandenburg burst into flames. Towering tongues of fire leaped upward, reaching as high as the gate tower itself, igniting several militia guards stationed along the ramparts. Two of the militiamen, engulfed in flames, accidentally tumbled off the edge down to the base of the wall.

Horrified by the sudden inferno, Barrett and Gamling rushed over to the edge of the gate tower to look down. A raging fire roared before the gate—the wooden doors were undeniably ablaze. Worse still, thick, billowing smoke poured out from within the gate tunnel, choking the entire fortress in black smog.

The defenders on the ramparts were completely bewildered by the sudden fire and smoke. The choking black haze, in particular, caused the eyes of the defenders stationed near the gate to stream with tears, severely hindering their ability to attack the scaling pirates.

A single whiff of the dense black smoke told Barrett exactly what had happened. Slapping his thigh with a groan of vexation, he said to Gamling, "Those swine used our own tactic against us for attacking Nolandenburg! They're using oil to burn down the gate so they can force their way right in!"

"Ah!" Gamling gasped in shock, then blurted out, "Quick! I'll have men start pouring water down right now!"

As he spoke, Gamling turned to head toward the gate tower, eager to immediately organize the defenders in dousing the flames, especially since plenty of water buckets had been prepared along the ramparts. But Barrett grabbed him firmly by the arm. Just as Gamling was about to ask why, Barrett roared, "Under no circumstances use water! Pouring water will only make the fire blaze higher!"

Scarcely had Barrett's words finished echoing when, with a deafening *whoosh*, the fire at the gate flared up with redoubled fury. Evidently, some defender had seized a bucket and dumped its contents directly onto the blaze; when water meets burning oil, naturally the fire only grows more violent.

This instantaneous, explosive flare-up claimed the lives of two more defenders on the wall. Urging Gamling to hold his post, Barrett prepared to rush to the gate tower himself to find a way to extinguish the inferno.

Instead, Gamling grabbed him, looking at him with absolute solemnity. "You are the commander of the garrison at Nolandenburg; you cannot take such risks. If you are injured or killed, Nolandenburg falls! How could we ever face My Lord?

"You stay here; I will go. I have a way to put out the fire without water, rest assured, Brother Barrett. Hurry back to command the battle, or else if the pirates swarm over the walls, we'll be in mortal danger. Go now, hurry!"

Holding Barrett back as he spoke these words, Gamling dashed off toward the gate tower. Barrett did not stop him, knowing full well that Gamling was right. Gritting his teeth, he turned back to lead his elite troops in intercepting the scaling pirates.

When Gamling reached the gatehouse, the intensely flared flames had subsided somewhat, though the fire remained towering and the heat was oppressive. Gamling could feel the soles of his leather boots scorching against the masonry beneath his feet.

The defenders at the gatehouse were either burned, injured, or had fled to safety. At that moment, only Gamling and the two militia soldiers who had followed him remained. Taking advantage of an autumn wind that swept away a patch of black smoke, Gamling scanned the gatehouse area, and his eyes suddenly lit up as he realized he had found the perfect material to extinguish the fire.