Game of Thrones: Holy Flame King
Chapter 183: the time

  Chapter 183 Time

  The battle broke out suddenly.

  Samwell threw away the corpse in his hand, sighed that the "Red Viper" was indeed poisonous enough, and then he carried the war hammer and prepared to fight.

  The Dornish people seem to be really scrupulous about the four statues of the Seven Gods blocking the gate on the first floor, so they didn't take out the battering ram to hit them, but moved a climbing ladder, trying to attack from the second floor.

  Perhaps in the eyes of the Dornish people, taking this temple is not a problem at all, so there is no need to blaspheme the Seven Gods.

   I don’t know if they will still be so pious after they are unable to attack for a long time.

  Although the statues of the seven gods restrained the Dornish people, the battle was still fierce.

   After all, the sanctuary is not a special fortress and is not suitable for defense. Moreover, the defenders are all cavalry. Regardless of weapon configuration or combat skills, they are more inclined to charge on the battlefield. It seems a bit unfamiliar to deal with this kind of offensive and defensive warfare.

   Less than two hours after the battle started, the Dornishmen rushed into the second floor, pulling the battle into the cruelest close combat.

  Samwell swung his warhammer so fiercely that almost no one could block his blow.

  Even if the Dornishmen held up their shields, it was useless. Under the blessing of Samwell's terrifying power, with a hammer, the shield was torn apart, and the Dornishmen behind him also vomited blood and flew wildly.

   But even so, it cannot prevent the overall situation from gradually developing in an unfavorable direction.

  There are too many Dornish people.

  The companions around Samwell fell down one by one, and soon even his younger brother Dickon was injured.

  In desperation, he had no choice but to pull out the giant sword behind his back.

  [Dawn] As soon as the dawn came out, the battlefield was immediately cleared, and more than a dozen Dornishmen turned into burning men.

   This terrifying scene seemed to press the pause button for the offense.

   But it was only a pause, not an end. After a short period of fear, the Dornishmen rushed forward again.

  They are professional soldiers, not the civilians in Sandstone City before, and their ability to withstand death is not at the same level.

   What's more, this time there is the "Red Viper" Prince Oberyn personally supervising the battle below.

  The madness of the Dornish people can be imagined.

  Samwell swung his sword again and killed more than a dozen people, but in the end he didn't dare to swing the third sword. If the third sword couldn't scare off the Dornishmen, he could only be slaughtered.

   Seemingly realizing that Samwell was unable to swing the third sword again, the Dornishmen came over even more fiercely.

  Seeing that the situation was about to collapse, the Dornish people suddenly receded like a tide.

  Samwell breathed a sigh of relief, but couldn't help wondering what was going on.

  When he released the falcon to hover high in the sky, he realized that the Iron Throne army outside the north city gate had begun to attack, and the Dornishmen naturally ignored them.

  However, in order to prevent the people in the sanctuary from coming out to make trouble, Prince Oberyn still left some soldiers to surround the sanctuary.

  Samwell and others can finally breathe a sigh of relief.

  In just half a day, they lost more than 60 soldiers under the crazy attack of the Dornish people. Such a huge casualty filled the church with an atmosphere of sadness and even despair.

"Don't worry, everyone!" Earl Jorn stood up again to boost morale, "The Dornishmen won't hold out for long! The Iron Throne's army has captured the tower once, and they will definitely be able to capture the second time! We only need to hold on for a few days, You will definitely be able to wait for victory!"

   Afterwards, he led the crowd to pray to the Seven Gods.

  The emotions of the soldiers gradually eased, at least on the surface, there was nothing unusual.

  Samwell helped his brother deal with the wound on his arm, but his mood was not so relaxed.

He watched the siege battle outside the north city gate for a while through the eyes of the falcon just now, and found that the attack of the Iron Throne army was not as fierce as expected. .

  This situation is obviously not normal.

  If the city had been captured once just now, the army of the Iron Throne should be coming aggressively at this moment.

  Samwell quietly told Earl Jorn about the observed situation.

   "We can't control the attack outside the city." Earl Jorn was also a little helpless, "No matter what is going on outside, the only thing we can do is to guard the sanctuary and try to contain the strength of the Dornishmen."

  Samwell was also a little helpless.

  Yes, they are trapped in the enemy's city, and there is nothing they can do except hold out in the sanctuary.

  In the next few days, the Dornishmen launched more than a dozen attacks on the sanctuary, but the attacks were obviously not as ferocious as the first time. It seemed that the army outside the northern city still restrained their main energy.

   Even so, the casualties in the sanctuary are still rising day by day, and morale is constantly declining.

   And resupply is also a problem.

   The dry food he was carrying was not lacking, but the fresh water had already been drunk, and there was no water source in the sanctuary, so Earl Jorn reluctantly gave the order to kill the horse.

  Horse blood is fishy and dry, but at least it can quench your thirst.

   On the ninth day, it rained, and it was like a carnival day in the church. Everyone gathered on the second floor, stuck their heads out of the window, and opened their mouths to catch the rainwater.

  The Dornishmen immediately launched an attack upon seeing this, and the two sides fought again in the rain.

  Blood mixed with rainwater was flowing wantonly on the ground. The picture had a strange beauty.

   This attack lasted for half a day, and the Dornishmen retreated again.

  Samwell walked to the main hall on the first floor, wet all over, and was about to take off his armor to rest, but a valley knight ran over and said:

   "Lord Caesar, Earl Jorn...is seriously injured."

  Samwell was slightly startled, because he realized from the expression of the knight in the valley that Earl Jorn's injury was probably more serious than the so-called serious injury...

  He didn't care about taking off his armor, and quickly followed the Valley Knights to the north side of the hall.

   "I told you earlier, this bronze armor can't save your life." Earl Jorn was still in the mood to joke when he saw Samwell coming.

  Samwell squatted down and carefully inspected the injury, and saw that an arrow had just penetrated Earl Jorn's left chest through a gap on the side of the armor, and blood had already flowed all over the place.

  The earl's second son, Sir Robert Royce, tried to help his father stop the bleeding, but it was obviously ineffective.

   "Okay, Robert, don't bother." Earl Jorn was very appreciative, "There is no one who wears this armor and dies well. How can I be an exception."

   "Father..." Robert was already sobbing.

  Earl Jorn looked at Samwell and said:

   "Master Caesar, I can't continue to command, so the command of this cavalry squad is handed over to you. I hope you can lead them to the final victory."

   "Okay." Samwell nodded heavily.

   "Your armor is no good either." Earl Jorn suddenly pointed at Samwell.

  Indeed, this set of armor on Samwell's body has become scarred in the fierce melee combat. A large piece of the breastplate was dented, and the lobster gauntlet on his right hand was simply split open.

   "Put on mine, I don't need it anyway."

  Samwell was stunned for a moment, and saw that Earl Jorn had signaled his son Robert to help him take off his armor.

   "I..." Samwell had mixed feelings, and finally accepted Earl Jorn's kindness, "I will definitely not let you down!"

  Earl Jorn took off his armor with difficulty, gasped for a long while, and then said in a very weak tone: "If you can help me kill the red poisonous snake, this set of armor is yours."

   "Father!" Sir Robert became anxious when he heard that his father wanted to give away the family's inherited armor to others.

But Earl Jorn had already made up his mind, staring into Samwell's eyes, and asked, "How about it? Do you dare to accept it? I won't lie to you, for thousands of years, there has been no one wearing this set of armor." A good death. They all died on the battlefield."

  Samwell shuddered slightly, as if he finally understood why this "Bronze Jon" had been so obsessed.

   "Is there a curse on this bronze armor?"

   "Haha, maybe. Your choice."

  Samwell only hesitated for a moment, and then began to take off his armor.

  Earl Jorn showed appreciation, and said:

   "Curse and blessing are two sides of the same coin. Lord Caesar, as long as you can withstand the bad luck of the curse, you will usher in the blessings of the gods."

Samwell held up the bronze armor with both hands, only to replace that it was not stained with blood, and there were no scratches left by swords, as if nothing could leave traces on it, except for the patterns on the bronze itself and the hieroglyphs. The same weird spell.

   This is a relatively light set of armor, which does not affect movement at all when worn on the body, but because of this, its protection range is smaller than that of heavy steel plate armor.

  When Samwell wore it, he didn't even need the help of his attendants, he could do it by himself.

  Earl Jorn has been staring at Samwell, with an inexplicable look in his eyes:

   "Remember her name..."

   After a pause, Earl Jorn's voice came again: "Time."

   "Time?" Samwell couldn't help mumbling and repeating, feeling the cold and boundless aura coming from the armor.

   "【Time】." Earl Jorn also repeated, staring at the bronze armor as if he had traveled through thousands of years and saw the scene of the ancient era,

   "Time washes away everything, but we will remember."

  Samwell put on the bronze helmet, and the words of Earl Jorn suddenly seemed very far away in his ears.

  Light and shadow flow in front of the eyes, and the fog is filled.

   Waiting for his vision to freeze again, Samwell found that there was a huge ice wall in front of him. It covered the sky and the sun, stretching between the mountains and fields, as if separating the world into two parts.

   The Great Wall of Despair!

  The frosty air that hit his face made Samwell tremble slightly. He looked around and saw weirwood trees everywhere he could see.

  There are old faces engraved on the trunk, with blood-red sap dripping from the eyes.

  The shadows gathered and coiled among the trees, gradually forming seven figures.

  They were wearing ancient bronze armor, and the leader was actually Samwell himself!

  He was startled suddenly, the world was spinning, and his fantasy was shattered.

  Last glance, he saw a woman like an ice sculpture.

  She has no breath of life, pale skin, pale lips, pale eyes, the only color is the winter snow rose wreath on her head.

  The only red color is so dazzling in the pale world.

   Like blood.

  The cries in his ears brought Samwell back to reality. He looked down, only to replace that Earl Jorn had closed his eyes.

   The bronze armor still exudes bursts of cold air, as if reminding him of something.

  Samwell bowed to the body of Earl Jorn and saluted, and then couldn't help blurting out the clan language of the Royce family:

   "We Remember."