"We can't escape such a fate after all!" The soldiers murmured, tears in their eyes, and whether it was despair or anger, all of them clenched their spears tightly and prepared to fight to the death.

Walcreek looked around, but what he saw in the helmet was a helmet decorated with yellow bird feathers, but he didn't see a centurion's helmet, which means that he was probably the only centurion here.

"What about the officers?" Walkerrick asked the soldier beside him.

"There are dead and wounded."

The soldier replied: "I thought there would be no more centurions, after the battle of resistance in the northern district. ”

"Are they all dead?"

"Maybe." The soldier then replied, "I would have brought back four or five, and you were probably the only ones who survived." ”

Walkrick was silent, he looked down at the centurion's horned helmet in his hand, weighed it, and then solemnly as he had put it on for the first time.

Walkerrick slowly put the helmet on top of his head, feeling the weight on his head getting heavier and heavier.

"Now, then, do my bidding." Walklick said in a deep voice.

"Surrender, Romans." A barbarian who knew Latin stood at the head of the bridge, spread his hands, laughed and said: "There is no hope for you, the strong soldiers are dead and wounded, and the rest are old, weak, sick and disabled, and stubbornly resisting, so it is better to choose to kneel, and my king Attila will spare you from death." ”

"This is our fate, and we must not be blinded by fear!"

Walkerrick muttered quietly, pulling a heavy javelin from the pocket of the soldier beside him.

No one said anything in this way, and everyone looked back at Walcrick, the only remaining centurion, although they were not strictly trained, but it seemed to be the nature of the Romans to obey orders, and they quietly watched what Walcreek did, as if they agreed with Walcrick's leadership in the dark.

"What? Romans, did they make a choice? ”

The barbarian loudly questioned Walker standing on the bridgehead fort, and Walker, the only officer who looked like a fellow, had his back to him, making him very curious.

"No!"

Walcreek roared loudly, and saw him turn his head sharply, and raise the heavy javelin in his hand, and the javelin roared at will, and threw his right hand like lightning, like a black lightning bolt that slammed through his chest before the barbarian could react.

The translator's surprised gaze and expression were fixed on his face forever, and he felt as if he had received a heavy punch in the chest, and the whole person rose into the air, slamming into the ground with a "bang", and then the whole person let out a long last breath, and was completely silent.

It was such a beautiful kill that made the other barbarians exclaim, and they looked down at the interpreter, who had already lost his breath, and then looked up at the Volkrick, who stood on the wall like a mountain, and knew the answer of the Romans compared to everyone else.

"Whew-"

A long trumpet sounded, and every barbarian gritted his teeth, like a mad wolfhound, roaring loudly to make the Romans pay the price in blood for the death of their interpreter.

"Boom..."

A large number of barbarian soldiers rushed onto the stone bridge with their weapons raised in their hands, and the sound of such huge footsteps even trembled that the entire stone bridge trembled slightly.

"Here they are, archers, our archers!"

Walcreek shouted loudly, and the archers on either side immediately drew their bows and arrows, and a dense stream of arrows came from both sides, and the barbarian soldiers were constantly falling in the slowly flowing river.

The blood of the barbarians who fell into the river stained the river red, but even so, a large number of barbarians did not know where to find the boats.

They rowed their boats across the river, but halfway through, they were stabbed by Romans armed with spears, and they stopped on the water and became a live target for the Romans on top of their houses.

At the bridgehead, although a steady stream of barbarians paid heavy casualties, they did not have any intention of retreating, but intensified, stepping on the corpses and rushing under the bridgehead defense.

"Kill them! Kill them! ”

Walcreek shouted, drew his pike and threw it downward, only to see a barbarian fall in the head.

The soldiers followed Walk's example, drawing pikes from their backpacks behind them and throwing them downward, as the barbarians fell, but more barbarians raised their shields to block the rain of pikes.

Such a rudimentary fortification, which was only two meters high, could not withstand the barbarians' attack, and the barbarians with their axes and broadswords in both hands roared and jumped up with their shields in their hands, jumping into the chaos of the crowd and fighting frantically.

The armies of both sides fought frantically on this narrow bridge, and Walkerrick was in the middle of it, and he frequently swung the iron sword of Spada, which was already full of rifts, and with each slash, he had to let out a loud roar to vent the anger in his heart.

But the iron finally couldn't support his slash, and it snapped with a "click", and Walker looked at the sword body that was only half left in his hand, and he didn't have time to hesitate, he hurriedly looked down for all the weapons that could allow him to continue fighting, although he was exhausted.

"Roar!"

Hearing a roar of rage looming in front of him, the rough voice was clearly that of a barbarian, and Walcreek looked up to see a barbarian swing his rough shield and slam it at him.

"Bang!"

Walcreek only heard a crisp sound, and he felt that his eyes went black, and the whole person fell straight down.

In the haze, he saw the barbarian raise his iron sword and prepare to kill him, but two or three spears pierced him in an instant, and he was still unwilling, but he had been pushed away fiercely, leaving only his unwilling screams before death.

"Quick, quick!"

At this time, he heard the rapid Latin, and only felt that he was being grabbed by the chain mail and dragged it back.

It was only then that he came to his senses, and a sharp pain in his face almost made him faint. He laboriously reached out and saw a trail of blood on his face.

"Damn it..."

Walcreek did not have the strength to say anything more, and at that moment he saw a large number of barbarians pouring out from all directions, and they rushed along the line of the river like an unstoppable tide.

Unexpectedly, the defensive line, which had been fortunate for a whole night, was easily torn apart by a large number of barbarians.

An army of burghers simply could not be an opponent of this gang of barbarians, if not a strong defensive line.

Soon, the soldiers, who had completely lost the confidence to resist, wailed and ran madly towards the road behind them, they were unwilling to resist any longer, and the Romans were completely defeated!

"God, you have abandoned your people!"

Lying on the cold stone floor, Walkerrick no longer had the strength to stand up, he wept, and with his last strength, he slammed the ground hard, and there was nothing else that could show his sadness.

Barbarians instantly filled the streets, and the confrontation soon turned into a one-sided massacre, leaving Orleans completely hopeless.

"Oh God! My God! ”

Walcreek lay on the ground as if he were dead, his eyes glazed over, and he muttered over and over again.

"Woo-woo-"

At this moment, he heard the very familiar sound of the horn, as if an invisible life force had been poured into his already emptied body.

"Boom..."

He looked at the southern end of the street, from where the roar came. The barbarians also stopped, they were trembling, yes, they were trembling!

At the end of the street poured out a large number of cavalry, all covered in silver and white, emitting a chilling glow in the daylight.