Chapter 480: Bombardment (Page 1/1)

ps: I also responded casually, begged for tickets, begged for subscriptions

Due to the fact that the English had placed their camp near Orleans, the Duke of Guise was unable to assemble all his troops to attack Orleans.

The Catholic allies, who could not concentrate all their forces, naturally had no choice but to shrink into a fist, and the morale of the Huguenots was greatly boosted.

In this way, under the scorching sun, the Catholic Allies and the Huguenots fought a hard siege and defensive battle.

The Huguenots did not have enough troops, and even if the Duke of Guise did not use all his strength, the troops dispatched still made the Prince of Condé send all his troops to resist, which was quite difficult.

The Catholic Allies were also uncomfortable.

Even though they had a large number of troops, they still divided part of their troops to defend the English, and they could not use all their strength.

This feeling was particularly uncomfortable for Duke Guise.

The belly and back are under the enemy, although not to, but not far away!

Another week passed, and the Protestant army, together with the Catholic army, left behind nearly 3,000 corpses in the city of Orleans, and the number of other wounded and disabled is difficult to estimate.

The city of Orleans, which has become a black hole, constantly devouring life, and does not look satisfied at all,

The ancient city wall, the blood that was stained with it had not dried up, but at this time, new blood was added again, forming one blood scab after another.

The original gray-black color has now turned red-black, and if you look closely, you will also find that there are many human organs left on the uneven surface of the city wall.

Teeth, bones, long hair, fingernails, and even shriveled ears are terrifying to look at.

The moat under the city walls had long been filled with corpses and dirt, and a small river that was muddy and blackened had become a land of corpses and mud.

It is expected that by next year, it will be fertile soil.

Standing on the wall, Boris watched as the Catholic allies dragged back the corpses of his side, and sent some of the old and sick to come close to the walls to collect armor and arrows.

Holding the spear in his right hand, he reached into his back with his left hand, reaching out to scratch it, and his long nails kept scratching up and down.

After a while, he felt that he had grasped something in his left hand, and when he put it in front of him, it turned out to be a tooth, blackened and smelling rancid.

Boris hurriedly threw it away, then slapped his left hand, smashed the sludge from between his fingernails, and rubbed it vigorously, as if trying to remove the bad luck from his hand.

Shrinking his head, Boris felt his face and the back of his neck flushed with the sun, and it was hot.

Sweat was already flowing uncontrollably from his forehead and neck, and the rough and inferior linen clothes, soaked with sweat, clung to his body, were uncomfortable.

"Damn the sun!" Boris cursed softly.

He stared down boredly at the Catholic allies as they retreated, watching the squeeze of the old and sick as they stealthily picked up the arrows that were on the ground, and then were accidentally shot by the archers on the city walls.

At the same time, taking advantage of this moment of leisure, the veterans on the city walls made boring bets on which scavenger would be shot next.

The veterans, like him, stared with amusement at the bottom of the city walls, their eyes motionless.

Just as they were enjoying this moment of leisure, suddenly there was a loud noise in the distance, and exclamations were heard around them.

"Run, run—"

Boris couldn't figure out why there was the word fleeing, they were on the city walls, and the Catholic allies did not attack it, what were they afraid of!

And he looked up suspiciously, and in front of him, dozens of huge stones cut an arc in the air, and then quickly enlarged in his eyes.

Only then did he realize that the enemy had already used artillery.

Unfortunately, the stone came straight at him like an eye, and smashed him directly into the city wall.

Before he could react and move his footsteps, he was directly smashed into a bloody cake, and the whole person went to see God.

Not only him, but even the other soldiers who were making fun were rubbed by the stones, dragged to the ground and rubbed, dripping with blood, coloring the entire city wall, and the original black was red again.

The others didn't dare to look at the corpses, they couldn't die anymore when they died, and the most important thing at the moment was defense.

The Protestant soldiers, who were soon instructed to remain on the city walls, were not to be moved.

So, on the city wall, the soldiers shrank their heads, glanced down from time to time, and then hid behind the wall stomping, cowering.

The whole city of Orleans spent the morning in a non-stop roar of artillery fire.

Although the casualties were not significant, they undermined confidence in the city of Orleans.

Huge boulders from outside the city were thrown into the city without interruption, destroying many houses and sending many people to God.

The inhabitants of Orleans, who had recovered considerably with the relief of the priest, were still in a trance and anxious.

This is especially true of the soldiers at the head of the city.

They hid under the wall, shivering, and waited in fear for the arrival of the boulder that flew from outside the city, and at some point, they were struck and went to God in a blur of flesh and blood.

In such a conservative situation, the process of waiting for death greatly depleted their morale.

After all, in such a situation where others beat you and you can't beat others, it is impossible to expect this group of troops, which is mostly composed of peasant soldiers, to withstand psychological trauma.

At noon, Prince Condé personally inspected the city walls, noticing the low morale of the soldiers defending the city, and his brow could not help frowning.

Morale is something that can't be lost.

So, he gritted his teeth and killed a few pigs and sheep to make meat soup to reward the hard soldiers.

In addition, he invited some Huguenot priests to come up and comfort the fragile hearts of the wounded soldiers.

In addition, he ordered the artillerymen, who had been suppressed all morning and could not raise their heads, to return the stones that had flown into the city with the only three or four cannons.

Although this is still inferior to the Catholic Allied forces, it has gotten rid of the situation of passive beatings and given the Protestant troops some special psychological comfort.

With these means, Prince Condé finally stopped the falling morale, and he finally breathed a sigh of relief.

This is the difference between a famous general and an ordinary general!

It is possible to find out what is wrong in the military at once and solve it as much as possible.

By the afternoon, the Catholic Allies had begun a new round of bombing, and Orleans had fought back with limited success.

It was like a little girl who was molested by everyone, and she resisted helplessly a few times.

But it ushered in an even bigger attack, this time with infantry artillery in concert, which caught Orleans off guard.

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